


The Flock (part 1)

by sturms_sun_shattered



Series: Rito Chronicles [4]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Diplomacy, Gen, Interpersonal Drama, Mild Gore, Minor Canonical Character(s), Rated For Violence, Rito Village, Sexual Content, Village Dynamics, Worldbuilding, class conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:53:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 73,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26183737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sturms_sun_shattered/pseuds/sturms_sun_shattered
Summary: As everyone settles into their new roles in the village, the newly appointed elder attempts to end the isolation the Rito have lived under for decades, a new first warrior is selected, and an exile returns with the news that might save them all.Post-For Ages to Comeand post-game.  The usual interpersonal Rito drama, politics, and angst.
Relationships: Amali/Kass (Legend of Zelda), Gesane/Ariane (Legend of Zelda), Guy & Gesane (Legend of Zelda), Guy & Mimo (Legend of Zelda), Harth & Teba (Legend of Zelda), Kass & Harth (Legend of Zelda), Laissa & Rito Warriors (Legend of Zelda), Laissa & Teba (Legend of Zelda), Mazli/Laissa (Legend of Zelda), Saki/Teba (Legend of Zelda)
Series: Rito Chronicles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757296
Comments: 52
Kudos: 35





	1. Diplomatic Immunity

**Author's Note:**

> I wouldn’t even attempt with without having read _For Ages to Come_ and probably _Age of Intolerance_. There may be some spoilers for _The Chronicler_ if you haven’t read it (they’re pretty far away), but it is in no way a necessity to understand this one. Begins a few weeks after _For Ages to Come_.
> 
> I would like to ~~blame~~ thank wokeboke and Marnige for this turning up on the page—your praise of my other works and desire to see more of the minor characters turned my head full of vague ideas into a fic. I would also like to thank my enabler, acacias, whose answer to ‘what should I write?’ is ‘all of it’. You are all so appreciated ♥
> 
> **In an effort to avoid spoilers, I’ve listed the content warnings in the endnotes (link below) and will be adding to them as I update.**

**Amali**

The sun was high in the sky and the autumn wind blew the sharp scent of pine across Lake Totori as Amali escorted her daughters to the Flight Range. Kass had insisted she take them to their lesson with Teba so she could grow accustomed to the idea of them learning how to use the bow. Amali knew she should not be worried about this; her children needed to learn how to use the bow for practical purposes of hunting and defence, and Teba had been instructing new warriors in tactical flight and weaponry for nearly all of his adult life.

There was the problem— _warriors_. Ever since Kass had suggested the children might benefit from these lessons, Amali’s insides had been in knots. She herself was no slouch with the bow, but the thought of her children one day putting themselves in danger was difficult to bear. Each time they returned, Genli swore that this was her first step to becoming a warrior, just as her new hero, Laissa, had. Though Genli had little in common with her namesake, Amali often found herself worried for her reckless daughter. Her brother Genik had not lacked in skill or bravery, but he had been lost to one foe’s lucky shot and Amali knew she could not survive the loss of her daughter.

Teba and Harth had already arrived at the Flight Range with their children when Amali and her rainbow of progeny set down on the landing. Tulin—advanced beyond his years in archery—was practising unslinging his small bow and nocking a blunted arrow as he dropped into a controlled fall down into the basin.

“Elbow up, son!” Teba called from where he hovered above.

Harth stood in the snow along the edge of the basin, not far from the lodge where the ground was lowest. He held Molli out above the updraft where she spread her wings and giggled as the wind buffeted her. His smile seemed strained as he encouraged her to stretch out her tiny wings and try to steady herself. Amali knew that Molli had not yet developed the strength in her wings to do more than flutter between the levels of the boardwalk, and Harth had begun to voice his worries about her future.

When Teba saw Kass and Amali’s girls lined up along the landing, he set down near them with Tulin and told his son to take a rest by the fire as he began tactical flight drills as a warm up for the new arrivals. Amali smiled a little as Notts executed the drills with a graceful perfectionism. Ever the show off, Genli raced through the drills, hitting her marks quickly, but a tad sloppily. Poor Cree struggled with the loops and Teba made her repeat the course. After her second attempt, Cree pouted on the landing while Kotts and Kheel ran their drills.

Concerned that her presence might bring about Cree’s tears, Amali fluttered down from the lodge to join Harth along the basin’s edge. As Amali approached, Harth pulled Molli in from the updraft and sent her to go sit by the fire with Tulin. They stood in silence as Harth stared out to where Amali’s children circled the pillar in their second round of drills.

“Yours look like experts,” Harth said finally.

“She’s improving,” Amali told him.

“I don’t know if she is...I worry that she won’t ever get this.”

“Difficult though it may be to accept, we’re more than our ability to fly.”

Harth nodded but his expression remained grim. He had never precisely said so much, but Amali had got the impression that his worries had compounded as he began to accept that he was all that remained to Molli.

“Molli is clever and meticulous; she could easily inherit your trade.”

“She’s learning a lot, but bows need to be tested.”

“That’s a ways off, but you can send one of mine out to test them,” said Amali. “I’m sure Genli would like nothing more.”

Harth exhaled a small smile. Amali wondered if this was just one of the many difficult days he still seemed to have since the loss of his wife. She and Harth were still not close, but Amali felt she owed it to Antilli to offer him what she could. After a moment of hesitation, Amali rested her hand on his shoulder.

“We’re still here for you, Harth,” she assured him.

“I’m grateful for that.”

As the afternoon wore on, Teba exhausted the children with their drills and had them sit by the fire with their snacks to rest. He set down near Amali and Harth as the children giggled raucously inside the lodge, Genli shouting some incoherent protest over their laughter.

“I’m pleased you made it out, Amali,” Teba said.

“Kass thought I ought to demystify the whole process. I don’t think he realizes that we all learned these things together when we were fledglings.”

“I hoped to speak to you anyway.”

“With me? Is that what my presence here is really about?”

“Kass has suggested that we might open diplomatic channels with other peoples of Hyrule.”

“Oh,” said Amali, tensing for a fight with Teba, “so you want to send him away again...”

“Actually,” Teba said, “I had hoped to send you.”

“Me?” asked Amali in surprise. “I’m hardly a diplomat.”

“You’ve flown through Hyrule with Kass. Ideally, you two would be best together, but one of you has to stay behind with your family.”

“Where would I be going?”

“Zora’s Domain.”

“And I’m to go on my own?” asked Amali.

“Harth?”

“I’ve already told you,” grumbled Harth, “it’s a firm no.”

“That’s a relief,” sighed Amali. The thought of travelling with Harth with no reprieve from one another would likely undo the recent gains they had made in their friendship.

“I thought you two were getting on better these days.”

“We are,” agreed Harth, “but not ‘travelling-through-Hyrule-together’ better.”

“Why don’t you send Saki?” Amali suggested.

“Saki?”

“She gets along with Harth and has far more of the qualities of a diplomat than I do.”

“I’ve half a mind to send you both,” Teba rumbled.

“Well, I’ll agree to this if I’m to go with Saki,” said Amali.

“Harth?” Teba prompted, perhaps thinking that Saki serve as a buffer between Amali and Harth

“Teba, I can’t leave you on your own with both Tulin and Molli.”

“Why do you think that?”

“We’d be gone a while. Send one of the warriors instead.”

“I can defend myself perfectly well,” Amali pointed out.

“Saki’s not an archer. If my wife is joining you I’d prefer that a guard accompany you,” said Teba.

“Alright,” agreed Amali, “whomever you decide.”

“Good. If Saki agrees you can set out in a few days.”

**Gesane**

It was evening. The clouds were thin in the sky and the first stars twinkled between them as the few remaining warriors met on the stack nearest the mainland to discuss the matter of whom to appoint as First Warrior. Gesane had only witnessed the naming of a new First Warrior once in his life, and there had been little doubt then that it was to be Teba, who had grown into leadership under Kaneli’s tutelage. This time, Gesane wondered if they were all equally unprepared for the role.

Guy stood uncomfortably beside Gesane as they awaited Mazli and Laissa. Since Teba had ousted Kaneli for the role of Elder, Guy had been taking the guards’ reports at the change of each watch, while Harth maintained the rota and Flight Range. Gesane knew that Guy had no interest in the additional responsibilities that came with the role of First Warrior, especially while his marriage was crumbling so publicly and acrimoniously.

Teba and Kass stood outside of the small gathering of warriors, determined to witness, but not interfere in the process. As Mazli and Laissa arrived, the five remaining warriors stood silently, facing one another in a circle.

“Who wants it?” Harth finally broke the silence.

Gesane might once have thought to stand for such an ambitious and honourable position; his father had served as First Warrior for a time, and—though his memories of Usli were few and fragmented by time—he thought perhaps it might ignite some feeling of connection to his father. As it was, Gesane’s wings remained clipped and missing patches of feathers that he had torn out in a febrile haze of pain. The unsightliness of his wings could hardly compare to how raw he still felt from the brutal punishment. Sometimes, he barely had to capacity to stand at his post in this shape, let alone lead the warriors.

“No one wants it,” Guy sighed. “No one wants to deliver the bad news to families when someone falls. No one wants to keep inventory at the Flight Range. No one wants to stand between the warriors and the village when things get ugly.”

“Well, you certainly are selling it,” Mazli drawled.

“Harth, you’re the oldest,” Guy pointed out.

Harth looked around at his fellow warriors in surprise, as though he wondered when age had crept upon him and left him the last of his cohort still standing among them.

“I can’t,” said Harth, shaking his head. “Between crafting bows and raising my daughter, I barely have time to help those few times you call upon me to do so.”

Next to Gesane, Guy sighed and shifted uncomfortably as though he worried he might somehow be stuck with the responsibilities he wanted so desperately to shed.

“I know I’m the newest among us,” said Laissa as she stepped forward, “but I would offer my name.”

Gesane glanced around the circle. Guy looked relieved, Harth’s expression was unreadable, and Mazli nodded his approval of his wife’s tender.

“I can’t recall a woman ever serving as First Warrior,” said Harth.

“If I might point out,” Kass interrupted from outside of the circle, “the Chronicle lists three women serving as First Warrior since the Calamity. There is nothing in our traditions that precludes it.”

“If you really wish to be the constant bearer of bad news, I have no qualms surrendering my responsibilities,” Guy said morosely.

Gesane glanced over at his friend; he was rarely so dark-spirited.

“Perhaps I won’t lead you into danger so wantonly that I need to bear your body home,” Laissa told him wryly.

“What else would you do as First Warrior?” Harth pressed.

“Well,” she said as though she had thought she may be pressed on this topic, “I would reinstate voluntary training for fledglings, I might encourage Skovo and Raza to take their warrior trials, and I would open the trials to qualified women.”

Harth smiled—a little sadly, Gesane thought.

“I think it’s clear that I endorse Laissa in this,” said Mazli as he glanced proudly at his wife. “She has a warrior’s heart.”

“In my time as Chronicler, I studied the diaries of all the First Warriors who have served since the Calamity,” she said. “I know the migration patterns of monsters through our lands and all of the sites where they rebuild their colonies. Now that they stay dead, I believe we can get a handle on them.”

“Does anyone else wish to state their support for Laissa?” Kass asked.

“I support your claim,” avowed Gesane, and he meant it. “I trust that you enter into this role in good faith. Not one of us is any better suited to it—let it be the warrior who cares most about all of our well-being.”

“Thank you, Gesane,” she said sincerely.

“I declare for you as well,” Guy said, though Gesane suspected he would be behind anyone who would free him of these extra duties.

“Well that leaves you, Harth,” said Mazli with his usual pushiness, “which side of history do you wish to be on?”

“Settle down, Mazli,” said Harth darkly. “Though she’s newly fledged, Laissa is undoubtedly the most suitable warrior for the role and I endorse her without question.”

“Then it’s unanimous,” announced Kass. “Our new First Warrior is Laissa, daughter of Eloza and Gotheli.”

Laissa grinned as Teba came forward to clasp her wing at the elbow in a warriors exchange. Gesane idly wondered if he would have come out ahead of Laissa if he were in fighting shape. He imagined so, but he was hardly about to begrudge her this victory when nearly every day was still a such a struggle. Guy as he shifted uncomfortably beside him and he glanced over at his friend.

“Let’s go,” Gesane suggested.

His wings still too damaged to fly, Gesane set out on foot with Guy toward the bridge. They had only taken a few steps when Teba cut in.

“Guy, a word?” Teba interrupted, pulling him aside.

Gesane stood to wait near the bridge where Mazli and Laissa joined him.

“Congratulations,” Gesane told Laissa, though something uncomfortable in him wished he could have had his chance. “You’ll do well.”

“Your trust in me means a lot,” Laissa said.

“Well—choice of spouse notwithstanding—I’ve only ever seen you exercise good judgment.”

“Gesane, you wound me,” teased Mazli.

“He does take a bit of getting used to,” Laissa agreed, casting Mazli a playful grin.

“Now you too?” Mazli protested.

“I doubt you should feel too unloved, Mazli,” said Gesane, “given the enthusiasm with which you’ve both leapt into _marriage_.”

Laissa laughed and Mazli choked a little; Gesane swore he had actually embarrassed him. As Teba, Harth and Kass took off in flight back to the village, Guy joined them at the bridge, his disposition little improved from before.

“What’s so funny?” Guy asked.

“I just imagine we’ll hear them again tonight,” said Gesane, relishing this strange moment of Mazli’s speechlessness.

“Don’t you know that’s how you end up with eggs?” Guy teased, though there was no lightness in his tone.

“I thought that was the point,” said Laissa as they set out across the bridge.

“Suit yourself,” shrugged Guy, “mistakes aren’t so easily unmade.”

“You’re a father, how can you say that?” Mazli asked in surprise.

“Maz, c’mon,” Laissa said quietly, trying to discourage him from his course.

“You know what, I’m sorry,” said Guy. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

The silence stretched through to the next bridge. Gesane was hardly surprised when it was Mazli who broke it.

“I think you’re jealous, Guy,” needled Mazli.

“Of what? Your delusion of domestic bliss?”

“You have such a mean streak when you’re unhappy. Why must you bring everyone else down with you?”

“Goddess, Mazli,” sighed Gesane, “it’s this exact thing you do over and over that lands you with a cracked beak or wondering why no one will speak to you.”

“Neither or your tastes in partners is my fault,” Mazli said irately.

“What?!” snapped Guy.

“Alright, Mazli,” said Laissa abruptly, “we’re going home before you undo the last bit of goodwill you have left with your fellow warriors.”

“Then you probably should have left two statements ago,” said Guy as they took off from the stack.

Gesane thought he should be more upset by Mazli’s comment, but he had taken enough abuse over his relationship with Ariane that Mazli’s ignorant quip hardly ruffled his feathers. Guy, on the other hand, seemed aggravated, unused to people pointing out that some of his past encounters were not so clandestine as he had thought.

They carried on up the darkened boardwalks of the village in silence. Gesane was always quiet as he passed the Brazen Beak; Nekk and Huck had hardly grown any more amicable since Teba had taken over as Elder, and Gesane was nervous that their ire might find an outlet in him. When they reached Gesane’s roost, Guy lay back in his hammock in silence and Gesane lit the lanterns.

“Do you want to talk?” Gesane asked as he approached Guy.

“I can’t put this on you right now,” said Guy, wiping at his eyes before the tears that built there could escape.

“Your troubles don’t burden me.”

“You have enough of your own.”

“Is it Ce?”

“She won’t let me see him—Keth. I know I’ve been a terrible father and husband...I let myself get pushed into that arrangement far too young. I should have fought it as you did.”

“I had no one left to pressure me, so it was easy to keep postponing. You did what you thought was right at the time.”

Gesane rested his hand on Guy’s shoulder as he stared up at the rafters.

“How can I make up for this when my wife won’t speak to me and I can’t see my son?”

“I don’t know,” said Gesane honestly.

Guy covered his face with the back of his wing.

“What did Teba want to talk about?” Gesane asked.

“He wants me to escort Saki and Amali on a diplomatic mission to Zora’s Domain,” said guy, his voice muffled beneath his wing.

“It might be good for you to leave here for a while.”

“If you want me to stay, I’ll tell him to send Mazli instead.”

“You don’t need to take care of me,” said Gesane standoffishly.

“Have you even slept a full night since your punishment?”

Gesane did not want to dignify that with an answer. Truthfully, he found himself frightened to be alone in his roost on the nights that Guy had late watch. Occasionally, Ariane stayed with him, but those nights were somehow worse, as he jumped at every creak in the boardwalk, worried that someone meant to do her harm. Ariane was unafraid of such a possibility and spent her night attempting to soothe him to sleep. The arrangement was hardly ideal for either of them, and Gesane had taken to sleeping at the stable with her in the cramped Hylian bed when Guy was away—at least he had nothing to fear from the Hylians there.

“I’ll be alright,” said Gesane. “You’re more suited to this journey than Mazli is, anyway.”

“Fucking Mazli.”

“Don’t worry about him. You might benefit from the break.”

“You’re not going to sleep at the stable the entire time I’m away?”

“Guy, you don’t need to be responsible for me,” Gesane told him, a note of aggravation creeping into his tone. “Why do you always do this?”

“Because you have no ties,” said Guy in surprise. “No siblings, no parents...”

Gesane hadn’t expected this response; he had just come to accept that he was adrift—he was hardly the only one. For Guy—whose parents had both seen him into adulthood and who grew up in a roost with Frita and Mimo—the idea of loneliness was frightening, but Gesane had long ago come to accept his lot.

“Go,” Gesane insisted, “see things. You may not have this chance again.”

“Only if you’re certain.”

“I am.”

**Mimo**

Mimo had stayed for a few weeks on the tropical volcanic isle out on the sea. The Island Rito traced their history back to several tribes from south eastern shores of Hyrule. Among them, feathers of cobalt, white, and soft grey or some combination thereof were common with eyes of startling blue, yellow or orange. These Rito—Mimo came to learn—referred to themselves as the Seabirds. Less common, but still numerous, were the broader frames and rainbow plumage of the Tropical Rito who had left the jungles to find safe haven after the Calamity.

At first, Mimo had enjoyed his time, in spite of the oppressive heat that threatened to smother him in his heavy feathers. The Island Rito seemed far more relaxed than their Northern kin. He was pleasantly surprised to see couples of the same sex living openly together—something that had been quietly discouraged for nearly two generations in Rito Village—and even couples that had more than just two partners. Relationships seemed to happen outside of marriage regularly, and the children who hatched as a result of those unions were not called bastards or taken from their parents in punishment, but treated exactly the same as children born on the right side of the nest. 

Mimo couldn’t contemplate this without the pain of his own childhood overwhelming him. He had tried hard to bury those feelings of resentment that he had never been allowed to know his parents and had never been treated quite the same as Guy and Frita had by their parents. Seeing that such harsh treatment this was not the norm in Island culture nearly suffocated him with unearthed pain, and left him thinking late into the night about what could have been.

As his stay with the islanders wore on, the novel sheen of their ways of life began to wear away. Though they had freedoms that the Northern Rito had long ago lost, the cracks in their society began to show as well—the Tropical Rito seemed to occupy most positions of authority and seemed to have a monopoly on education, while many of the Seabirds could barely read; the Tropical Rito tended to live in the more favourable parts of the island, while the Seabirds lived in shacks along the beach or where lava from volcanic fissures was more likely to flow; and the island was overcrowded, their tropical fruits over harvested, and their patch of sea over fished.

By the end of a moon’s turn, Mimo was surprisingly eager to return to the familiar oppression of Rito Village, and had managed to convince their ruling council to send a diplomatic delegation along with him. Tosk and Hossa were both of Tropical descent, and Mimo marvelled at how they resembled Kass. Tosk was scarlet with yellow and blue wing tips, as striking in his manner as his plumage—he was tall, even among the Tropical Rito and always spoke in a loud, clear voice. Hossa was green with blue primaries, he was both shorter and smaller than Tosk, and quietly pensive. Soni was the only Seabird among the diplomats, she was white with grey flecks and grey wings, and a sharp tongue.

As Mimo escorted the contingent through Hyrule to the northwest he learned they were a strange folk, indeed. None of them had ever seen any of the races of Hyrule outside of Rito. At the stables when they first met Hylians, they had all reacted in fright when the stable master spoke to them. They were terrified of horses, and their anxiety seemed to agitate the dogs at the stable. After that first disastrous night in which none of them slept, Mimo had made the decision that they would camp on the roadside thereafter.

When they met a Goron and a Gerudo travelling on foot through central Hyrule and chatting pleasantly, Hossa had fainted at the sight of them. By the time that they were within a day’s flight from the Rito Village, Mimo had grown wholly sick of these mad Rito and longed for the predictability of his kin.

It was late afternoon when they set down at Revali’s Landing, and Mimo was ready to make the diplomats Kaneli’s problem. As he climbed the stairs to the boardwalk, he was accosted by Teba, Harth and Kass, who had come from Teba’s roost and stared past him to the Rito who waited patiently on the boardwalk. Mimo could feel the smug smile spreading across his face, pleased by how dumbfounded they all looked.

“I need to speak to Kaneli,” Mimo said, allowing a hint of self-importance to enter his tone.

“You should know that Teba is Elder now,” said Harth.

“Aren’t you a little young for that?” Mimo asked.

“Where did you find these Rito?” Teba asked numbly.

Mimo glanced at Kass, who had covered his beak, his eyes shining as he stared at the Tropical Rito.

“They can tell you all about it,” said Mimo, “let me make the introductions and then I leave it to you.”

As Mimo introduced the two parties, he could not help but feel a little self-satisfied that it was he who had managed to find what Rito had been searching for since the Collapse. When the introductions were over, Mimo left the landing, glad to finally be free of the Island Rito. For the first time since his exile, he considered staying in his childhood home with Khedli instead of at the Swallow’s Roost, if only to avoid spending another moment with the delegates.


	2. Hindsight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guy announces his departure. Diplomatic relations between the Island Rito and the Northern Rito stir up some old pain for Kass. The Rito delegation to Zora’s Domain sets out.

**Guy**

Guy had decided to inform his family about his impending departure for Zora’s Domain in spite of the the tense relationship with his wife. Ce had been broadly indifferent to the idea of him leaving, though she had allowed him to at least say goodbye to Keth. This had been more than Guy had expected, given how badly their last encounter had gone. 

As his son hugged him and made him promise to come back, Guy wanted to weep for all of his mistakes. Keth didn’t deserve to watch his parents’ relationship fall apart before his eyes, but Guy felt powerless to stop what had already been set into motion. He wondered if it was worth suffering side-by-side with Ce for a few more years or whether they should petition Teba to disintegrate the union.

When Ce cleared her throat and suggested that he should finish his goodbyes so they could proceed with their evening meal, it seemed abundantly clear to Guy that she had no more desire to see this through than he did. It would have to be a conversation for another time.

His mood already foul, Guy supposed this was as good a time as any to tell his mother he would soon be off. Khedli’s roost was tiny, situated halfway up the spiralling boardwalk and suited only to her. Herbs hung in bundles from the rafters, drying in the cool mountain breeze and filling the air with their sweet scents. The words had barely left Guy’s beak when she began with her usual hassling.

“You’re setting out _again_?” Khedli asked, though it was less of a genuine question and more of an opening statement to the tirade that would no doubt follow.

“Mother, I can’t say no to Teba,” Guy sighed, steeling himself for the impending barrage.

“Oh yes you can! You didn’t even manage to bring your sister back—Goddess knows why you took so long out in the desert—now you’re just running away from your responsibilities.”

This was a little too close to the truth, Guy thought uncomfortably. Since his return, he had taken every opportunity to distract himself from the hell which he had brought upon himself—he knew had never been the father that Keth deserved, nor much of a husband to Ce. Guy desperately wished he could unwind a few of those threads of his life and try to restitch them with the wisdom of age.

“I don’t want to fight,” Guy told his mother plainly. “I just thought you ought to hear it from me.”

“You’ve already left your wife to go take up with Gesane again.”

“That’s not what’s going on,” said Guy, hating how defensive his protest sounded, though he was ashamed of how much he had come to rely upon Gesane. “I’m staying with Gesane because Ce needs some space.”

“For all I know it’s you, him, and that little Hylian piece curled up in one hammock! What must your son think?”

Guy took a deep breath and willed himself to remain calm. The only reason he had a wife and son was because he had bowed to Khedli’s pressure to submit to the arrangement. Guy often thought that Frita—having taken off the day she was to wed Huck—was the smarter of the two of them.

“Mother, I came here as a courtesy—”

“You used to be the good one,” Khedli lamented.

“Perhaps that leaves space for me?” came a sardonic voice from the doorway.

“Mimo,” breathed Guy, utterly surprised to see that he stood before them alive and well.

Khedli stared at the Rito she had hatched and raised before she sat down with her head in her wing. Watching her display, Guy had to suppress the impulse to storm out.

“Goddess, I’ve raised a runaway, an adulterer, and an exile,” Khedli lamented.

“Which one are you?” Mimo asked Guy as he entered the roost.

“Adulterer I presume,” Guy responded irately.

“Khedli, I brought you word of Frita’s whereabouts,” Mimo reminded her.

“Because you were bargaining for your own freedom,” Guy pointed out cynically.

“You were so good as children,” Khedli sighed to herself. “Where did your father and I go wrong?”

“I’ve had enough of this guilt,” announced Guy. “Mother, I’ll see you when I return. Mimo...it’s good to know you haven’t met your doom.”

Guy pushed past Mimo as he left the roost. The sun had dipped in the sky, and Guy half-thought he ought to prepare something for his evening meal, but in his pressing state of disappointment he couldn’t muster the will to eat. As Guy strode down the boardwalk to Gesane’s roost to finish preparing for his journey, he heard the clack of talons on wood as Mimo caught up with him.

“Wait.”

“You know, after I heard you didn’t bother to deliver my message, I presumed you dead,” Guy told him sharply.

“And you didn’t even shed a tear?” Mimo mocked.

“I brought flowers to the Goddess statue in hopes that she would keep you.”

“You think Gesane would let me stay with you, or are you really sharing a hammock?” Mimo asked, entirely ignoring the implication that he had caused Guy any pain.

“I don’t know,” said Guy.

“I need a clearer response—you’re _not_ sharing a hammock are you?”

Guy shook his head and said, “though you may have to share with me, there isn’t really room for a third.”

“I’ll hang mine off the outside railing if I have to,” said Mimo. “Even if it rains it’ll hardly be the worst sleep I’ve had since I left.”

Guy stopped on the boardwalk to look at Mimo in the last rays of the setting sun. His pitch-dark feathers were askew from flight, and he wore the same hard look as always—a front for the crippling insecurities Guy knew were buried beneath. He reached out to wrap his wings around the Rito whom he had been forbidden to call brother.

“Guy, must you do this on the boardwalk?” Mimo asked as he squirmed uncomfortably.

“Did you really think Mother would have a space for you in her roost?” Guy asked, not letting go. “Are you out of rupees?”

“I had hoped maybe she had gained some small sense of maternal instinct that I might use to find a hammock for the night.”

“Why not the inn?”

“I’m not answering until you let me go.”

Guy acquiesced and Mimo smoothed his feathers indignantly as they set off down the boardwalk once more.

“I...found a colony of Rito,” said Mimo, a strange grin on his face.

“Did I hear that correctly?” Guy asked, shaking his head.

“I brought three back to speak to...Teba I suppose...what happened there?”

“A story for another time,” said Guy, lowering his voice. “Listen, about Gesane...don’t pick a fight with him.”

“I don’t fight with Gesane,” Mimo protested.

“You fight with everyone. Just...don’t, alright?”

“Fine,” said Mimo. “I promise not to say anything.”

They walked in silence as they neared Gesane’s roost.

“I’m glad you’re...not dead,” Guy told him at length.

Mimo huffed a shadow of a smug laugh, his eye glinting with a look that teased at affection.

“I feel the same way about you.”

**Kass**

It was late into the night when Kass suggested to Teba that the delegation from the island might do with some rest. They had sat in the inn all evening, barred off to the rest of the village as Kass and Teba spoke with the three. Kass felt himself growing weary in the warmth of the lantern light as he politely tried to hang on to the words of the delegates.

Tosk seemed as though he could talk for the rest of the night, but Kass could see that Soni and Hossa were also growing tired. When he glanced at Teba, he realized that the newly vested Elder likely also felt the strain of such a prolonged social interaction.

“Perhaps we might continue this tomorrow?” Kass suggested.

“It’s not our custom to retire so early,” said Tosk. “But your manners here are quaint and your nights are so dark.”

“Until the morrow then,” Kass bid them, letting Teba leave along the bridge to the boardwalk ahead of him.

The tiny flames of lanterns still flickered warmly in some homes and at intervals along the boardwalk, keeping the velvety darkness beyond the village at bay. The breeze soughed quietly through the roosts, its cool touch invigorated Kass’s mind and was a relief after the stifling closeness of the inn. Kass and Teba were well past the shops when Teba finally spoke.

“Kass, I’ve never been so glad for you.”

“That, I believe,” said Kass darkly.

“I’m not suited to diplomacy as you are.”

Kass glanced at Teba. He looked as exhausted as Kass had ever seen him. While Kass was fully prepared to excuse his fatigue on the Tosk’s overwhelming presence, he noticed that Teba had not seemed his usual self since he had taken over the role of Elder. When asked, Teba had been vague in his replies, but it was clear to Kass that he was overwhelmed by the weight of this new mantle. It hadn’t helped that the response to Teba’s move to strike punishments of humiliation from Rito justice had been a spike in unsettling incidents—most recently, a dead pigeon left in Laissa’s hammock.

“I imagine we’ll have another day of such talks tomorrow,” Kass told Teba. “But we should be happy. We’re not alone.”

“We’re not alone,” Teba repeated, his expression coming dangerously close to a smile. “And _you’re_ not alone; your tribe lives on.”

“Some of them anyway,” said Kass, his throat unexpectedly tight.

“Rest. I doubt I’ll survive this without you.”

“You too,” Kass bid him as they parted ways.

Amali was already asleep when Kass slipped quietly into his roost. He sat down on a short stool and opened The Chronicle on the side table, contemplating how he might even begin to record the momentousness of this evening. His stylus hovered above the page as he set down the date.

_“Autumn, 100 years since the Calamity...”_

“Papa,” came a whisper from the hammock above him.

He glanced up to see a face peering over the edge of the tiny hammock, which was strung between the posts that framed the roost.

“Yes, Cree?”

“Are there new Rito here? Molli said they look like you.”

“There are,” Kass confirmed as she slid from her little hammock and flitted down to his lap.

“How come we’ve never seen any before?”

“They live far away.”

“But...did you live with Rito who looked like you once?”

The light from the lantern flickered in Cree’s wide eyes as she gazed up at him.

“A long time ago,” Kass told her, his throat tightening.

“Where did they go?”

The question was one of childish innocence, but Kass had promised himself long ago never to lie when his children eventually asked him of this. But he hardly knew how to tell Cree of the horrors he had known when he was barely older than she was now. Kass thought he had healed long ago, but seeing his tribesmen had set off that old pain. He tried not to remember the carnage—the flutter of bright wings, the shrieks, the sound of clubs against bone...

“They died,” Kass whispered.

“How?”

Kass straightened her hair as much to comfort himself as her. He smoothed a few feathery strands as he felt the familiar prickle of tears building in his eyes.

“There were some angry people,” Kass told her, an ache building in his throat, “and they came killed them.”

“Your Mama and Papa too?” asked Cree, her own eyes shining with tears.

Kass nodded, unable to to speak for the pain it caused him to hear his own daughter asking such a thing. Cree leaned against Kass’s chest and wrapped her little wings around him as far as they would go, and Kass pressed his beak to the top of her head as he enveloped her in his wings.

“It was a long time ago,” Kass murmured into her hair. “The world is a different place now.”

He held her close for a few moments longer before he lifted her back into her hammock. She stared over the edge at him while he closed The Chronicle, vowing to revisit it tomorrow.

“Papa.”

Kass reached up to tuck her blanket around her. As he stroked her cheek with a feather touch, he could think only of departed teacher, Olin, and how he had comforted him the same way when he was small and frightened.

“You’re safe here,” he whispered to her, just as Olin had so many times to him. “I won’t let anything harm you.”

**Amali**

The morning was crisp and cool when Amali stood on Revali’s Landing with Saki and Guy, the three of them ready to set out to Zora’s Domain. It was early, and the sky was pale with the first hint of morning light as they bid their loved ones farewell.

Genli bounced incessantly, wishing that she, too, might be assigned to a diplomatic mission. Catching Genli by her wing, Amali pulled her near and gathered all of her girls close.

“Be good for your father...better than you were for me in the summer,” she warned as she combed her beak across their downy heads.

“I’m always good,” Notts insisted.

“Mama, do I have to go to the Flight Range?” Cree asked.

“Yes. You must learn to use a bow.”

“I love the Flight Range,” Genli exclaimed, her voice muffled by Amali’s wing.

“Practise hard, be safe, and listen to Teba and Harth while you’re there,” she told them seriously as she let them go.

To one side of her, Amali could hear Saki bidding Tulin and Molli goodbye. She cuddled Harth’s daughter close just as she did her own son. To Amali’s other side, Guy stood stoically on his own, and Amali could not help but feel a little saddened to know that Ce was keeping Keth from him.

“And this time you leave me,” sighed Kass as Amali stood and took his kind face in her hands.

“Now you shall know how it feels,” she said as she drew her beak across his.

Amali rested her head against his breast as he enfolded her in his wings, dreading the quickly approaching moment of their parting. As she idly observed Guy over Kass’s wing, she saw his face light up as Gesane approached from the boardwalk, gesturing for Mimo to follow.

Guy reached out to Gesane, and Amali watched as Guy wrapped him in his wings and held him close, reaching out the cup the ever morose face as they parted. Gesane looked as though he badly wanted to say something but could not bring himself to do so.

“I’ll be back soon,” Guy promised him softly, and Gesane nodded.

“Don’t,” Mimo grimaced as Guy hugged him too.

“You are as a brother to me,” Guy told him firmly. “Remember that.”

Mimo reached one limp wing up to Guy’s shoulder and gently squeezed it. For the tepidness of the gesture, it was the most intimate exchange Amali had ever seen from the dark-feathered Rito, and she pulled away from Kass as the guilt of having witnessed something so private nearly overwhelmed her.

“Be safe,” Teba told Amali solemnly as he rested a wing on her shoulder.

“You too.”

As Harth released Saki from his embrace, he turned to face Amali.

“One for you too,” he shrugged and Amali returned the hug.

With one last peck from Kass, she set out with Saki and Guy. It had been many years since Amali had left the village, but she had consulted Kass’s maps and knew which roads to follow. It was late afternoon by the time that they spotted the Great Bridge below.

“There’s a stable, let’s set down,” Amali called to her companions.

Guy looked as though he would have happily flown into the night, but acquiesced without dispute when Saki agreed. As Saki and Guy sorted out their evening meal at the cooking pot, Amali approached the counter to secure their beds for the night.

“Three beds,” she told the stable master.

“So the Rito have left their rock,” he said as he collected her rupees.

“I’m sorry?”

“Usually only see Mimo ‘round here...though it’s been a while since last we saw him. Had to send the post out with a rider.”

“How unfortunate,” Amali said disinterestedly. She wondered if the rest of their journey would be full of such observations from stable masters and Hylian travellers.

As she joined Saki and Guy at the fire, Amali was surprised to find them chatting easily with the Hylians who sat near the cooking pot. She settled down in the short, sparse grass beside Saki, and took the bowl her friend offered.

“Here. Toma and Adoh have kindly offered to share,” she said gesturing at the two Hylians.

“Toma,” the fellow with the dark beard greeted her, reaching past Saki to shake her hand in that over-familiar manner that Hylians had. “And my brother, Adoh.”

“Amali,” she replied stiffly, carefully balancing her bowl of stew as she recovered from the Hylian greeting.

Amali ate the bland stew as Toma regaled them with tales of his adventures. Truth be told, Amali heard very little of it—she was far more interested in the conversation between Guy and Adoh. She could make out very little of it, but even in the gloaming she could see an unusual smile on Guy’s face and that Adoh’s face had grown a little pink.

“I think we should turn in,” Amali announced, casting Guy a pointed look as she stood.

Guy glanced back at her, a defensive expression crossing his face.

“I’ll join you soon,” he said in his usual diplomatic tone.

“C’mon,” Saki said, taking her wing, “leave Guy to his socializing.”

“He’s flirting with that Hylian,” Amali whispered as they neared the stable.

“That’s not our business.”

“He’s married!”

“Amali, of all people, you should know better than to interpret the affairs of others.”

“Why me of all people?” Amali asked, unable to keep the irritation from her tone.

“Listen,” said Saki as they neared their beds, “not everyone has what you and Kass have. If Guy wants to flirt with every Hylian we meet between here and Zora’s Domain, let him. Goddess knows Ce doesn’t care for him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I shouldn’t be saying this,” said Saki reluctantly.

“You’re already saying it.”

“I think it would be optimistic to think they would last,” Saki said carefully.

Amali had never known a marriage to be dissolved among the Rito. Kaneli had forbidden it in a move to keep couples together and procreating...not that that had healed their population any. The thought of a marriage ending—even one so miserable as Guy and Ce’s—sat poorly with Amali.

“Just leave it, Amali. We aren’t responsible for him and we don’t need any ill-will between us on this mission.”

“Fine.”

Amali had trouble sleeping as she lay back in the cramped Hylian bed. In her youth, she had stayed here with Kass, her heart racing as she attempted to woo him with affections he had never before known. She wondered what had become of that young woman who had sneaked off in the dark of night without any clear plan but to snare the handsome outsider who had turned up one winter’s night. She had left her village thinking Kass a prize with his polished manners and outlandish ideas, but returned having fallen for him.

It was late into the night when Amali saw Guy return to the stable, his feathers mussed and his expression elated. Whatever had transpired between Guy and Adoh was none of her business, she tried to remind herself as she closed her eyes. It was not as though she was jealous of his youthful abandon, even though he might be growing a bit old for such things. If Guy was too old for such impulsive choices, Amali thought, then she was far too old to wish for a little of the same freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as Guy is...a nice guy...it always struck me that he must have some real marital problems if he’s off hanging out in the desert saying he ought to take his kid out travelling. I hope everyone is enjoying the rest of Mimo's story starting to come out though :)
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	3. Reciprocity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outside of their usual comfort zones, the villagers struggle as much to get along with each other as with the diplomats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind thanks to my Zora consultant [acacias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acacias) for the encouragement with this chapter!

**Gesane**

It was well into the night when Gesane returned from his watch, exhausted and sore, to find Mimo was still camped out in Guy’s hammock.

“Am I never to have my own roost to myself again?” he sniped.

“You said I could stay,” said Mimo defensively.

“That was when Guy was here to make sure you weren't being your usual thieving self.”

“You wound me,” Mimo drawled.

Gesane stripped off his cuirass and cast it aside with somewhat more force than necessary. He tried to ignore Mimo as he went about his nighttime routine of smearing a little salve over the scarred tissue on the worst of the bald patches on his wings and silently praying that he had not damaged them so badly that his flight feathers would not grow back. When Guy was in the roost, they talked easily as they readied themselves for sleep, but Mimo stared unnervingly at Gesane, his head resting on his wing.

“What?” Gesane finally huffed.

“Did you get attacked?”

Gesane’s nerves were already so frayed from exhaustion that he just laughed, and lamented that Guy wasn’t here to help him calm himself. For all he claimed that he did not need Guy, he worried that he had come to rely too heavily upon him in situations such as these. Mimo’s expression did not change—he seemed neither appalled nor sympathetic—and Gesane found comfort in the steadiness of his gaze.

“What’s wrong with you?” Mimo pressed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

“A mess of...things...” he struggled. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard.”

“I heard you had your wings clipped.”

Gesane nodded, fighting the urge to weep that sometimes came upon him when he remembered that terrible night. It still made him sick to think of the days that came afterwards when he had grown so fragile. Though Guy assured him he was getting better, this was not a night where he felt much different from those horrible days in the summer.

“I know the humiliation...of being dragged before the village,” said Mimo.

“With respect, Mimo, I’m not certain you do,” said Gesane. “I was hoping for what you had.”

“Six years away from everything you’ve ever known?” asked Mimo acerbically. “I’d take a few seasons not flying over crushing loneliness and Hylians looking to take advantage of your wings for their gain.”

“This isn’t about being unable to fly,” Gesane returned, hating the way his voice broke.

Fearing he was about to fall into that pit of dark thoughts, he pulled on his discarded cuirass and made for the boardwalk.

“Gesane, where are you going?”

“To the stable. If any of my things are missing when I return, as soon as my flight feathers have grown in, I will hunt you down without mercy,” he threatened.

“I’m not a thief,” Mimo protested. “And your response is really disproportionate to the crime.”

“Perhaps my own experience with justice has left me predisposed to harsh reactions,” Gesane said. “You’re only here because Guy vouched for you. Don’t disappoint _him_.”

With that, Gesane left for the boardwalk. That harrowing journey to the stable, which had once taken him moments on wing, now took so long he was certain that Ariane would not be awake when he reached it by foot. Seeing his expression, Raza gave him a wide berth as Gesane left the village. As he crossed the bridge to the mainland, even Skovo did not ask why he was walking down to the stable at such a late hour. 

By the time he had arrived at the stable, his chest had grown tight with panic. The only thing that kept him focused was the ache that remained in his leg beneath the pink scarred flesh from the bokoblin’s bite. Gesane stepped into the dimly lit stable where Galli had fallen asleep with his elbow on the check in desk and his head in his hand. The stable master lifted his attention as he heard Gesane’s talons clacking against the wood floor.

“Bit late, isn’t it?” Galli asked.

Gesane glanced at him, unable to respond through the tightness in his chest. Having grown used to Gesane’s frequent appearances in such a state, Galli didn’t press him further as Gesane crept to the side of Ariane’s bed.

“Ariane,” Gesane whispered.

She inhaled deeply and half-opened an eyelid. As she realized Gesane was standing over her, she blinked a little and shifted back, drawing the heavy blankets back with her.

“C’mere,” she mumbled through the thickness of sleep.

Gesane hung his leather armour on the bedpost and curled up beside Ariane. She pressed her nose into his shoulder and pulled him against her body, her fingers splayed in the soft feathers on his chest. 

“I’m sorry to wake you,” he whispered.

“S’alright,” she breathed into his shoulder.

Ariane’s fingers traced tiny circles on his breast, an affectionate gesture that Gesane usually revelled in, but tonight he was wrought with tension. He covered her hand with his, wishing desperately to unburden himself. But—having worked hard for her day’s wage—Ariane had already pressed her head to his back and fallen asleep. 

Gesane stared out into the dim stable until the first grey light of dawn began to creep in from outside. Only then did his eyelids grow heavy, and he gave into troubled sleep.

**Saki**

King Dorephan had been such an imposing figure that Saki had nearly lost her nerve to speak. When she and Amali had been brought before him, she was so impressed by his immense size that she had forgotten everything Kass had told her about Zora custom. Fortunately, Amali seemed to remember herself, and took over where Saki could not. They spent the better part of the afternoon discussing the opening of their borders to one another and the potential for direct trade. By the end of their negotiations, Dorephan had pledged to send a delegation to Rito Village by the following summer. 

Satisfied that the beginnings of a friendship between the two peoples had been forged, Saki and Amali were escorted around the domain by Laflat, the royal family’s chief secretary. As they toured the domain, Saki marvelled at the architecture, the delicate inlay of silver and luminous stone that spoke to the skill of craftsfolk who had plied their trade for decades, perhaps centuries. 

As night fell, Zora’s Domain glowed with a soft light, and Saki saw the full effect of the architectural marvel that only the Zora might ever achieve with their meticulous planning and grand aesthetics, their long lives granting them the time to painstakingly shape their world. The ethereal beauty that surrounded them now stood in such contrast to the haphazard homeliness of Rito Village, where roosts were added and levelled with ease, their constituent parts reused in the new. In that way, a legacy of the old still remained—an echo of the ephemerality of Rito life, and the ever-present shadows of those who had left their feathers before them.

After dark, they joined Laflat and Muzu, and dined on fish from the river, garnished with herbs. The elderly councillor shared stories of the last time he had met with a Rito delegation more than a century before, easily dismissing that those Rito had likely died before Saki’s grandparents were even hatched. The gap between their lifespans overwhelmed Saki, and made her think that perhaps Zora regarded the other peoples of Hyrule as children.

By the time she and Amali retired to their beds at the inn, she realized they had not seen Guy since that afternoon.

“He was speaking with a Zora guard,” said Amali dismissively when Saki brought it up.

“Perhaps he’ll creep in at first light as he did at the stable.”

“I didn’t think you’d seen that,” Amali said, a note of disapproval in her tone. “It’s hardly a wonder that Ce wants nothing more to do with him.”

“Amali,” hissed Saki, glancing back at the innkeeper who stood disinterestedly behind the desk.

Amali laid back on her bed, and Saki followed suit, shuddering at the dampness which seemed to seep into the bedding. The catch of damp linens against her feathers made her long for the drier air of home. For her part, Amali seemed to be enjoying the view through the open arches of the inn, watching the glimmer of luminosity on the moisture-slicked stones of the cliffs above them.

“I’m glad we were sent out,” Amali said in lieu of nothing. “Why should our husbands have all the fun?”

“Why indeed?” agreed Saki, though she strongly doubted that Teba was having much fun at all with the delegates from the islands.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Amali said as she turned onto her side and rested her head on her wing. “Cree is very unhappy training at the Flight Range—too like her father. Might you take her on as an apprentice?”

“An apprentice healer?”

“I don’t know what she might be better suited to.”

“I think I could do that,” agreed Saki. Certainly Tulin had never shown any interest in her craft—he was far too enamoured with the idea of warriorhood. “In fact, I’d be delighted to.”

“Well that’s one of them settled,” sighed Amali.

“They’re still young,” Saki assured her.

“I fear the rest may wish to be warriors—certainly Genli does. I don’t know how you manage the thought of your child at the range each day.”

She had little choice, Saki thought. Tulin had been as hellbent on following after his father as Teba had been on living up to his own father’s legacy. Just as she had begun to feel safe in the knowledge that Teba was no longer in danger, she had begun to live in fear for her son. But that day was not yet upon them, she reminded herself as she tried to sleep.

Amali slept easily in the next bed, but the ambient light and persistent sounds of water flowing through the domain kept Saki uncomfortably awake. She longed for the shiver of pines and dry breezes to lull her to her rest. It did not bear mentioning that the dampness of the covers was somehow worse than the smell of the old straw of the stable beds had been.

When first light came, she arose, her body heavy from her poor sleep. Guy finally returned as they broke their fast and prepared to set out. He joined them at the cooking pot, looking a little unkempt, but in generally high spirits.

“Where’ve you been?” Saki asked, her exhaustion getting the better of her temper.

“I sought other accommodations,” he shrugged, his characteristic nonchalance irking Saki.

“Eat,” Amali told him as she thrust a bowl of fried fish and lotus seeds into his hands. “We should set out quickly.”

“Thanks.”

“If you haven’t gone and ruined our hard work,” Amali muttered under her breath.

“Sorry, what was that?” Guy asked, though by his furrowed brow, Saki suspected he knew very well what Amali’s gripe with him was.

“Were the accommodations to your liking?” interrupted Kodah, one of the innkeepers, as she came to stand in the alcove.

“Yes, they were lovely,” said Saki, hoping that Zora could not tell enough from Rito to see that she was lying.

As Kodah left, Saki cast Amali and Guy a warning look and the three of them finished their meal in awkward silence. 

Before they departed, they were once again paraded before Dorephan and his council, who bid them farewell. They responded with the goodwill that she doubted any of them felt—save for perhaps Guy, who was still grinning stupidly. Saki could not help but notice the look that Guy must have thought was subtle which he exchanged with one of the guards before the three of them took off from the gallery above the statue memorializing their fallen princess.

They flew out from the domain and over the swamp-lands where the sunlight shimmered off the water. Saki could see the skeletal remains where Hylian homes had once stood on the marshy islands below. The silence hung between the three of them until Saki suggested they stop to rest atop a rocky hill near Wetland Stable. They peered out over the flat and grassy lands, their seemingly unending stretches of rustling grass so unlike the cozy mountains which hemmed in the Rito territories. 

Saki stared out to that looming structure in the centre of the kingdom. Though the tendrils of malice had dissipated, Hyrule Castle remained a darkened husk of a once magnificent feat of Hylian engineering.

“What must your wife think?” Amali finally asked Guy in disgust, ruining the serenity of their rest.

“Amali, I’m certain this is none of your business,” Saki warned.

“If you believe that I’m never ashamed of the things I do, you’d be wrong,” said Guy. “But we don’t all have what you and Kass have.”

“If you think Kass and I don’t have to work for what we have—” her voice raising in ire.

“That’s not what I think at all,” Guy told her solemnly. “I don’t have much opportunity for such affection. I feel guilt for betraying my honour, but I will never regret taking those fleeting moments where I can find them.”

“Alright this is...all very personal,” Saki intoned, as she saw Amali’s feathers raised in aggression. “Amali, we owe Ce nothing; she’s no friend to us and you know well the harm of gossip.”

“Would you not be angered if Teba were to be found with—”

A cry for help cut the air and they turned to see a Hylian merchant on the road had been set upon by two bokoblins.

“Blue one’s mine,” Amali called as she took off.

Guy reacted only an instant after her, taking flight and unslining his falcon bow. Saki sighed, and supposed she had better follow them in case things went badly. Amali—huntress that she was—finished her foe in a single shot, and Guy did not hesitate to do the same. As the bokoblins lay still on the side of the road, Saki landed and reached out a wing to the merchant.

“Are you injured?” she asked.

“Not at all,” he said, taking the proffered wing and pulling himself to his feet. “Call me Beedle...because that’s my name.”

“I may never get used to this,” said Guy as he prodded the warm body of the defeated bokoblin.

“Prices for elixirs are going way up,” Beedle told them. “The monster parts you need to make them are growing scarce since they’ve stopped reanimating.”

“That’s concerning,” said Saki as she glanced down at the carcasses.

“If you want them, they’re yours,” said Beedle. “We’ll call it a fair exchange for saving me.”

With that, Beedle hiked his pack a little higher onto his back and continued to plod along, trucking his wares toward the stable. Saki looked up to see Amali and Guy watching her grimly.

“I could really use the guts,” she said apologetically.

“Do you want me to...” Guy trailed off and made a bleak gesture.

“Just give me your dagger,” said Saki.

Guy reluctantly handed over the knife, and Saki unflinchingly cut open the belly of the beast to retrieve her ingredients. Amali covered her beak with one wing and held out a burlap sack in which Saki could deposit the slimy purple organs.

“I am not carrying these home,” Amali said when Saki had finished with the second.

“I will,” Saki assured her.

The macabre task completed, Saki perched on the rocks at the riverbank and scrubbed her wings of the ooze from the bokoblin.

“We can make it to Outskirt Stable by tonight if we leave right away,” Amali told them.

“Agreed,” said Guy. “If we don’t, our return journey will take an extra day.”

“Alright,” said Saki as she fastened the sack, soaked through with purple, to her pack. “Let us set out.”

**Teba**

“I can’t be the arbiter of every little dispute,” Teba said, digging at the pain in temple.

“Why not?” asked Harth. “If Nekk and Huck are refusing to serve people that seems like something you should get involved in.”

Teba sat at the back of his roost, awaiting the moment when he and Kass were to go show the diplomats from the islands the Flight Range. Over these past days, Teba had heard far too many of Tosk’s remarks about the quaintness of their ‘little village’ and complaints about the cold coming down from the mountains. Even Kass seemed to be having difficulty just grinning through Tosk’s disdain.

“Harth, where are the children?” Teba asked. Goddess, how he wanted to just sleep through the afternoon.

“On the stacks with Kass and Amali’s kids—Teba, it’s clear that Nekk is at the centre of these incidents.”

“What would you have me do?” Teba hissed. “Haul him out in front of the village? Lash him to the guard’s post? Exile him?”

“Perhaps say something?” Harth suggested incredulously.

“Teba,” interrupted Kass from the doorway. “We’re ready for you.”

“I’ll meet you on the landing,” Teba told him and Kass retreated.

“Harth,” said Teba getting to his feet with a sigh, his head still pounding, “I don’t know how long this will go.”

“No, it’s fine,” said Harth rigidly. “I’ll make sure Tulin is fed. I won’t let Kass’s kids starve either.”

“Perhaps you wish you had accompanied Amali?”

Harth huffed a mirthless laugh.

“We appreciate you doing this,” said Teba.

“Just go,” Harth said, waving him off. “Be diplomatic.”

Teba sucked in a deep breath as he approached Kass and the delegates. Kass’s expression was strained as Tosk clapped him on the shoulder and laughed, but Teba had long ago run out of ways to rescue him. He thought to try the next best thing.

“Alright, let’s set out,” Teba announced.

The five of them set out over the lake to the languidly flapping banners that marked the Flight Range on the skyline. Laissa and Mazli had gone ahead to prepare it for their guests, and as Teba set down with the delegation, he saw that the couple remained to demonstrate the use of the Flight Range.

“We have no enemies on our isle,” announced Tosk as he watched from the landing. “So we have little use for warriors.”

Teba retreated into the lodge, leaving Kass to once more field the unending chatter from Tosk. As Teba inspected the changes Laissa had made to how the stores were arranged, he turned to find Hossa had followed him. Hossa had had very little to say since he arrived, and what he did manage was in a soft and pleasant voice that was often overshadowed by Tosk’s bombast.

“Tosk seems to be having difficulty cutting to the heart of the matter,” observed Hossa.

“I don’t disagree,” said Teba as he watched Tosk pull Kass in with his over-friendly manner.

“Like you, we’re in the midst of a population crisis,” Hossa told him. “Tosk’s generation is disinclined to speak of it, however, something must be done soon.”

Just as Teba had thought his troubles nearly solved, he feared to hear that their population had grown so small on the islands as well.

“Though ours is of a rather different nature. We’ve been considering a move to Hyrule, given that we’ve nearly stripped the resources of our own islands.”

“I see,” said Teba carefully.

“This would almost certainly be a years-long endeavour,” Hossa confessed. “But Tosk is right when he says we have no need of warriors—we long ago cleared the island of anything that might challenge our dominance...and then we over ran it.”

“What are you asking?” Teba finally said. “That you might live with us?”

“I doubt that many of us would be suited to this cold climate, but your skill in aerial combat...it was your inheritance from besmirched Rito Champion.”

“Besmirched?” asked Teba darkly.

“You honour him here,” said Hossa, “but among my people he is not even named aloud. There are those who feel that he failed us.”

“Hossa, what is your proposed solution to our combined troubles?” Teba pressed.

“That you might train some of our youth at your magnificent range, so that we are able to defend ourselves as we establish colonies in Hyrule.”

“I see your side of this, but what do you offer in return?”

“Your people are on the brink of extinction. It’s not inconceivable that there might be those among both of our tribes who wish to intermarry.”

Teba was taken aback at his forwardness, wondering if perhaps this had been the plan all along. With one short negotiation, Hossa had cut through the nonsense of the days that Tosk had filled with idle chatter.

“I would send a delegation back with you to begin recruiting for warrior training,” Teba suggested. “Perhaps even our First Warrior, Laissa, is she feels so inclined.”

“We would welcome that.”

Hossa held up the back of his wing to Teba, and Teba stared in surprise.

“The is how we commit to an agreement,” Hossa explained, seeing Teba’s confusion.

Teba mirrored the gesture and Hossa quickly pulled one of Teba’s coverts from the back of his wing.

“And you,” Hossa explained as Teba stared at him in surprise.

The gesture felt far too intimate as Teba pulled a green feather from the back of Hossa’s wing and stared at it.

“And then what am I to do with this?” Teba asked.

“You keep it safe, as a reminder of our good faith.”

“We have no such custom,” Teba told Hossa as he stared at the iridescent shimmer from the plucked feather. “We record our agreements.”

“Not all among the islanders can read, though I’m uncertain where this developed.”

Though Teba spent the rest of the afternoon hoping he might find a way out of Tosk’s long-winded tales, it was after nightfall by the time he and Kass finally left the delegation to their rest in the inn. They walked the boardwalk to Harth’s roost in silence, both worn from the excessive talk during the day. Teba’s head ached just as much as it head that morning and he yearned for his hammock.

Harth was to be found leaning against the railing on the boardwalk outside of his roost. He made a gesture for quiet as Teba and Kass approached.

“They wanted a sleepover,” Harth whispered gesturing to his roost. “Kass, I don’t know how you manage five.”

“With unbelievable patience,” Kass told him wryly. 

Inside, the children had dragged their hammocks from their own roosts and fastened them haphazardly along the railing. One appeared to have been abandoned, hanging limply by one rope between Genli and Tulin’s hammocks.

“Where’s Cree?” whispered Kass.

Harth gestured up to Molli’s hammock where the two of them had managed to squeeze in together, Molli’s head resting on Cree’s outstretched wing while they slept. Teba saw the smile in Kass’s eyes as he gazed at the two of them curled up together. 

“Harth, are you alright with this?” Teba asked. “I can take Tulin home.”

“It’s fine. I don’t want him to feel as though he’s missed out. Anyway, Kass’s roost has been ransacked...”

“Which I thank you for,” said Kass dryly.

“Look, about Nekk,” Harth began as they moved up the boardwalk a little.

Teba’s sigh rumbled up as as though it had come from his very soul. He knew that Nekk was abusing Teba’s pledge to put an end to harsh punishment and interference in the lives of others, yet he feared to go back on his word. Certainly even a conversation with the tailor was likely to get blown out of proportion, and—in the midst of the surprise delegation—Teba wanted to avoid any unpleasant rumours that might make their way back to the islands and dash their only hope of survival.

“When the Rito go back to the islands with their report...I will see what can be done.”

“The longer you leave it the worse it will be.”

“Why is this bothering you so much? Did he refuse you?” Teba pressed.

“I have no need of his services,” grumbled Harth.

“Then what?”

“Never mind, you’re right,” huffed Harth, turning back toward his roost. “I’ll send Tulin home when he wakes.”

As Harth stormed back to his roost, Kass stepped out of his way and cast Teba a concerned glance. For all Harth had pledged to see Teba through his tenure as Elder, Teba could already feel the gulf widening between them. The role weighed on Teba, and he lived with the constant strain of knowing that the decisions he made had already affected the village—both for good and ill. He had tried to explain this to Harth, but his friend was far to hard-headed to see beyond the immediacy of boardwalk aggressions.

“Kass, when the delegates return to the islands,” Teba began, trying to clear the air of Harth’s indignation, “do you wish to accompany them?”

Kass’s eyes widened in surprise and he seemed briefly unable to speak.

“I hadn’t thought of it,” he finally said. “And I’ve only just returned from a season away.”

“We’ll speak tomorrow, but if anyone should go...you should see what became of your tribe.”

“That’s very kind of you, Teba,” Kass said softly.

Teba nodded, still unable to respond to Kass’s sincerity with any sort of grace. By now, Kass seemed to understand that this was merely his way and no longer sought to aggravate him by piling on his earnest thanks. Instead, Kass glanced once more at Harth’s roost before he turned to set out down the boardwalk.

“Goodnight,” he bid Teba.

“And you.”

Teba returned to his own dark roost, vast in its emptiness, and readied himself for sleep. With Saki away and Tulin at Harth’s, Teba nearly had half a mind to drag his own hammock down the boardwalk and join the warmth of Harth’s crowded home. Bitterly recalling how Harth continued to needle him over Nekk, Teba settled back into his hammock and resigned himself to the odd quiet of loneliness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are not only welcomed, but appreciated :)


	4. Displaced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The delegates set out for the islands with a party from Rito Village; Laissa grows into her role

**Kass**

Having struck out on her own recent journey, Amali was not nearly so sharp with Kass when he told her of Teba’s proposal as he had anticipated she would be. They were to expect word from Zora’s Domain before a contingent arrived, and Teba seemed pleased to hear that the attempt to establish diplomatic relations had gone so smoothly. Kass thought that Teba rarely seemed very pleased these days.

The delegates had happily agreed to have Kass accompany them back to the islands, though Teba had sensibly pointed out that they ought to also bring at least two warriors for defence and to help select recruits to be trained as warriors. 

Kass set out to ask if Laissa and Mazli might be willing to join the party, but was taken aback when he arrived at their roost. They sat together along the back railing, wrapped in a blanket, Mazli’s mother Idda fussing over them both. To Kass, the scene was astonishingly familiar.

“Kass,” said Mazli as he stood to meet Kass at the doorway, his expression dazed. “Surely you’re not here to offer congratulations already.”

“Did this happen today?” asked Kass, glancing to where Laissa held a wrapped bundle, unmistakably their egg.

“Yes...our first,” said Mazli, glancing back at his wife in disbelief. “We’re not quite getting our hopes up yet.”

“Well...I wish for you the best,” Kass told Mazli as he rested his wing on Mazli’s shoulder.

“Wait, if not for congratulations, why did you come by?” Mazli asked as Kass turned to leave.

“No reason,” Kass told him.

With Mazli and Laissa indisposed, Kass was sent next to inquire with Guy. Kass caught Guy on his watch at the foot of the village shortly before he was to give his nightly report.

“I can’t leave again, Kass,” Guy sighed when Kass relayed Teba’s proposal. “Ce is just letting me see my son again and that’s...” he trailed off. “And Gesane’s...he’s not...”

“That’s a heavy weight,” Kass said, resting an empathetic wing on Guy’s shoulder.

“What are you going to tell Teba?” Guy asked, worry creeping into his voice.

“I’ll tell him that you aren’t in a position to go. He doesn’t need to know the details.”

“I know that leaves you with only Harth.”

“So it does,” sighed Kass.

“Kass...”

“You can’t carry the weight of the world,” Kass told him. “Stay here. Be with your son. Take care of Gesane.”

As the crisp of autumn began to carry that bitter chill of north wind that smelled of winter, Kass packed feverishly for the trip. Teba had pressured Mimo into joining Kass and Harth for the expedition, and Kass could not say with whom he was less enthusiastic about spending the next few moons.

As he carefully chose what to bring along, Kass considered the eightfold blade he had received from his teacher, wondering if he should bring the heavier blade in place of a feathered edge. Both held such significance—one of the home where he was raised, the other of the home where he had settled. Of the home where he was hatched, nothing remained to him. Kass settled on the eightfold blade.

“Perhaps we’re doomed to live most of our lives apart now.”

Kass turned to see Amali had returned to the roost with a platter of fish to cook for their evening meal. He set down his blade with his pack, and stood to wrap her in his wings.

“Perhaps Teba will send you on the next one,” Kass told her.

“I was angry that you left me for the summer,” she told him.

“You haven’t held back in expressing that particular sentiment.”

“But Kass, I understand _this_. What remains of your tribe...you must meet them,” Amali insisted, reaching up with both hands to cradle his face.

“They are...distant relatives of my tribe at best,” sighed Kass. “Those wise or able enough to leave.”

“Do you see nothing of yourself in Tosk or Hossa?”

“Do you?” he asked, surprised.

“Your manners have never been those of a Rito,” she said. “And you have rightly earned the Sheikah customs in which you were raised.”

“I fear that...” Kass hesitated.

“You can tell me any of your fears.”

“When I saw the Northern Rito—when I made my way here—it was not a surprise to me that you were different from the Sheikah and Hylians I had lived my life with. That you regarded me as an outsider...it was harsh, but not completely unexpected given how unsuited I am to living among you...”

“Kass, that’s not true anymore. You’re accepted here.”

“Accepted, or have people merely grown accustomed to me?”

“Certainly well-regarded at any rate.”

Kass buried his beak in the feathers at the top of his wife’s head.

“I have nothing of the Tropical Rito left to me, save for my looks. I fear that I shall find even less acceptance among them than I have here.”

“You won’t know until you go,” Amali told him. “And if you should feel out of place, remember that you have a place here, regardless of whether or not you recognize that.”

**Mimo**

In the chill dark of the early morning, Mimo stood on Revali’s Landing and awaited the rest of the party. A light frost had formed on the boards beneath his talons, the crystals shimmering where the dim lamplight caught them.

“You left without saying anything,” came a soft voice from the boardwalk.

He turned to see Guy approaching. Mimo had come out here alone, hoping that he might avoid a scene.

“You had a late watch,” Mimo shrugged. “I thought you ought to sleep.”

“Were you just going to leave and not come back?”

Mimo was not certain that he could live among the Island Rito, but he still felt the sting of exclusion from the Northern Rito. Whether it was their enduring suspicions about his birth or the indelible mark of exile, Mimo could not seem to put himself at ease among them. He doubted he would have much better luck among the Hylians, but at least with them he knew where he stood. 

“It’s not as though anyone would care,” Mimo said bitterly.

“How can you still think that?”

“You don’t need to pretend to be the elder brother. You don’t owe me that. All your parents were to me were incubators; they made that abundantly clear.”

Khedli in particular had been adamant that he never call her ‘Mom’, though Ralazo had kindly overlooked the few times Mimo had called him ‘Dad’ as he taught him to hunt. It had always been clear from Mimo’s dark plumage that he was not not of their blood, but Mimo had often wished that they could simply accept him as their own. He was far too old when he realized that he was merely an instrument of punishment for the indiscretions of his real parents, whomever they may have been.

“You can’t blame them forever, Mimo,” Guy told him, his tone so aggravatingly patient. “At some point you have to make your own decisions and stop lamenting what you didn’t have so you can see what you do have.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Mimo snapped. “You don’t have anything, Guy. Your marriage has fallen apart, your son thinks you abandoned him, and Gesane has someone else!”

“I see I’ve struck something sensitive. It must mean you know I’m right.”

Mimo could see Harth on the boardwalk, his daughter in his arms, her sleep-heavy head pressed against his breast as he carried her to Teba and Saki’s roost. No matter how Guy might infuriate him, Mimo was not about to raise his voice and incur Harth’s wrath before they set out on such a long journey together.

“I didn’t come to fight with you, Mimo,” Guy told him.

“Then what?”

“When you’ve finished...come back.”

“Why?” Mimo scoffed.

Mimo stiffened as Guy wrapped his wings around him.

“You’re still a brother to me.”

“Enough,” grumbled Mimo, pushing Guy away from him as the others began to assemble on the landing. “I’ll come back if it means so much to you.”

“It does.”

Mimo wondered if Guy was wasting so much of his energy on him in some sort of misplaced remedy to the rest of his life crumbling around him. Guy never looked hurt when Mimo pushed him away; he only ever regarded him with a look of deep understanding. That, too, was infuriating.

The goodbyes were a much quieter affair than it had been for the delegation to Zora’s Domain. Only Teba had come to see them off, sharing a few last minute instructions with Kass.

“Well then,” said Tosk, “I must say I am glad to be out before winter; I’ve had quite enough of this cold air.”

“I think I should like to see the winter,” Soni announced.

“I would, too,” said Hossa.

“You would be welcomed back,” Teba told them formally.

The sun had not yet risen, but the sky had turned shades of pink and apricot in the east, the dark retreating at their backs as they set out. They had hoped to make it as far as Outskirt Stable by nightfall, though Mimo had his doubts that Tosk would be able to last a full day in flight if their last journey together was any indication. As they flew above the rocky lands of Tabantha, Mimo caught up with Kass, near enough that they might speak.

“They don’t know how to behave at stables,” Mimo warned him.

“Whatever does that mean?”

“They’re afraid of everyone and everything except Rito. We stayed only once in a stable, and I doubt we will be welcomed back.”

“If they wish to return to Hyrule,” Kass told him, “they’ll have to get used to it.”

Somehow, with only a few short stops, they made it to Outskirt Stable. It was well after dark by the time they had arrived, and warm light poured from the stable doors, illuminating a square of hard dirt and dried grass of the stable yard. They landed a short distance from the stable so as not to frighten the horses, and Mimo glanced back at the delegates. Even in the dim light, he could see the apprehension on their faces.

“I’ll see if they have any beds,” said Kass as he set out for the stable.

“I didn’t realize we’d be staying at the stable again,” Soni said quietly.

“There are few choices,” Harth told her.

“The Hylians...” Tosk began.

“What of them?” Harth asked disinterestedly.

“They chased our people from the southern shores when they sought refuge after the Calamity.”

Harth glanced briefly to where Kass stood at the desk, speaking with the stable master.

“I understand your apprehension,” Harth told them. “I too once lived in fear of Hylians. When you get to know them, you’ll find that we have much in common.”

“Perhaps don’t bring this up to Kass,” Mimo intoned, as he saw Kass returning.

“Someone has to share,” Kass announced.

“Surely not me,” said Tosk, his self-importance ruffling Mimo.

Soni fixed them with a glare, and Hossa shrugged. Mimo glanced between Harth and Kass who both looked at him. Fearing he was about to spend the night crammed in an already too-small Hylian bed with Kass, he lifted his pack and set out around the back of the stable.

“I’ll sleep elsewhere, then it will no longer be an issue,” Mimo griped.

“Where?” Kass asked.

“Perhaps on the roof. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Mimo, they don’t want you to sleep on the roof.”

“Then perhaps they ought to have proper accommodations,” said Mimo as he fluttered up to the coloured canvas.

“Mimo,” Kass hissed from the ground.

“I’ve lived in this world too, Kass. You don’t need to tell me the rules.”

“I’m not certain why you’re so upset,” said Kass. “Harth and I can share if you need your own space.”

Mimo didn’t respond; Harth was hardly likely to take sharing a bed any better. Mimo climbed up onto one of the top panels of the roof and set his pack beside him. The sky above was clear and bright with stars, so Mimo had nothing to fear from the weather.

As Mimo lay back, he found he rather preferred the feel of the canvas beneath him to a Hylian bed anyway. At least up here he no longer had to play emissary to a bunch of diplomats. For all he hated loneliness, he found welcome comfort in such solitude after a day of Tosk’s chatter.

**Laissa**

Laissa sat at the back of her roost, the egg wrapped close to her body. Mazli slept in the hammock above her, though the autumn sun cast amber light through the openings in their roost. It had been only a few days—they hadn’t even yet candled the egg—and she was already growing frustrated as she and Mazli shuffled their guard shifts to ensure one of them was always present to incubate the egg. 

“Laissa!” hissed Skovo as she skidded to a halt in her doorway.

“Something wrong?”

“You have to do something about Gesane.”

“What? Why?” she asked, carefully cradling the egg as she stood.

“He’s not right...I think it was supposed to be a joke, but something about the way he said it...I think he might throw himself off of the bridge.”

“Is someone with him?”

“I told Raza to keep watch.”

“Get Guy, tell him to meet me by the bridge,” said Laissa.

Skovo didn’t hesitate, and tore up the boardwalk to Gesane’s roost.

“Mazli, wake up.”

“Already?” Mazli moaned.

“I need to go take care of something.”

Mazli exhaled and slid groggily from the hammock, smoothing the feathers on the side of his head before he reached out to take the egg.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Laissa told him as she pulled on her cuirass.

Laissa scrambled onto the back landing and leapt out over the lake. It was a swift flight to the stack nearest the mainland where Raza stood watching Gesane. Gesane seemed to take no notice of them as he clutched the railing in his shaking wings, and stared into the lake below.

“Raza, you’re dismissed,” she told him as Guy landed beside her.

Guy looked prepared to run to Gesane’s side, but Laissa gripped his wing.

“Should we get Ariane?” she asked him.

“That might make it worse,” Guy said.

“Just wait here,” Laissa told him before she set out down the bridge, her heart pounding, fearing she might frighten the guard.

“Gesane,” she said cautiously as she approached.

Gesane lifted his head to look at her, but his hands remained shaky on the railing.

“Laissa.”

“Is everything alright?” she asked, as she came to stand beside him.

He responded with an embittered huff, and Laissa thought she had never seen him so fragile. Even as he had spread his wings wide and had his feathers sheared away, there had been some steely part of him that had glared out at his tormentors. Now, he looked as though he might break at any moment.

“You need to take some time away from this,” Laissa said softly.

Gesane avoided her gaze and nodded slightly as though considering what that might mean. After a long stretch of silence he inhaled a shaky breath and glanced back to where Guy stood on the stack.

“You needn’t have brought Guy.”

“I considered bringing Ariane,” she admitted.

“Then I appreciate your restraint.”

The quiet stretched once more between them. This time Laissa broke it.

“I’m not doing this to punish you, Gesane. I know Teba believed you when you said you were alright, but I don’t have the same stake in this that he did....and...”

He glanced up to meet her eyes.

“You’re scaring people.”

Laissa couldn’t bring herself to admit how much he was scaring her right now. She tried to maintain that hard shell of her role, the way Teba always had, but in her own mess of sleeplessness and the hormones of having just laid, Laissa just wanted to pull Gesane to safety and hold him close. Even at his best, she knew he would never appreciate such a physical gesture.

“Because of my wings?” Gesane asked as he stared at them.

“Because of your apparent disregard for your life,” she gasped. “Gesane, you’re not yourself.”

“You need guards,” sighed Gesane. “I know you and Mazli can’t cover this all the time while you brood.”

Unable to fight the urge to comfort him any longer, Laissa reached out and put a wing around his shoulders. Gesane flinched beneath her touch, but released the railing, and went with her as she guided him back toward the stack.

“I appreciate the thought,” she told him, “but I don’t want to put you at risk on our account. I’ll cover your watch. Just go with Guy, and when you feel better we can talk about this.”

Guy’s expression was solemn as he met them at the end of the bridge. As soon as Laissa took her wing from Gesane’s, it was replaced by Guy’s. Gesane jerkily shrugged off Guy’s wing as they made their way up toward the village, and Laissa prayed that Guy could keep Gesane safe until he felt more himself.

“It’s alright. Just come home,” she heard Guy tell him, the understanding in his tone cutting Laissa’s heart as badly as any weapon might.

Laissa took up the spear Gesane had left leaning against the railing, and wondered how she might go about rearranging the rota and still manage to find time for her and Mazli to sleep. She was about to reassign Raza to Gesane’s post, and leave the entrance to the village unguarded when Teba landed on the stack and met her on the bridge, his expression dark.

“You’ve pulled Gesane from duty,” Teba said. It was a flat statement, neither conversational nor observational.

“He’s not well,” she said, a little acerbically. “Feels like you ought to have known.”

Teba cast his dark glare at her, but she didn’t waver. Her father had never smiled much either, and his face had been similarly hostile, belying his gentle soul. She doubted Teba was quite so tender-hearted as Eloza had been, but the expression that had cowed Teba’s warriors had never intimidated Laissa.

“He begged me to return to guard duty,” Teba said at last. “I couldn’t refuse him.”

“Things change,” Laissa said, trying to recall some of Guy’s understanding, though it was not so natural to her.

“What are your plans?”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” she admitted. “We have to go down to one guard. I was about to bring Raza down from the village entrance.”

Teba gestured with a small motion of his head that they ought to head for the foot of the village. Laissa followed him up to the stack and to the next bridge before he broke the silence.

“Your reports on the monster activity in the area are... _thin_ ,” said Teba carefully.

“Guy, Mazli and I have been through their usual routes. We’ve even tried more historical patrols, but it looks as though monster activity in the region is in decline.”

“Stay vigilant.”

“This isn’t why you came here,” she said, suspecting that Teba was merely leading up to something larger. 

“Who among your warriors would you appoint to train fledglings and novices?” Teba asked.

“Gesane, I think...but...he’s in no shape to do so right now.”

“I thought as much...”

“Are we anticipating new recruits?” she asked, puzzled. Teba had insisted that he would be training not only his own son, but Kass and Amali’s daughters as a personal favour to them. Laissa had no training program in place, and did not anticipate their entry into the ranks of novice for several years anyway. She was also hesitant to interfere in anything where Amali was concerned.

“Its possible that we may see ourselves training quite a lot of Island Rito,” Teba told her.

“Alright.”

“So, if not Gesane, then who?” Teba pressed.

“Guy, I suppose,” she decided. At least Guy was accomplished at pretending he could function as his life crumbled around him, she thought bitterly.

“Not Mazli?”

“I think we both know that Mazli isn’t well suited to the role,” Laissa quietly admitted.

They stopped near the salmon pond, eager to wrap up their discussion of such arrangements before they reached Raza’s post.

“I can help with training—at least initially—if you don’t feel that I would be overstepping my bounds as Elder.”

“I would be very grateful for your guidance,” Laissa said sincerely. “I have no knowledge of how to train new warriors. I doubt Guy has much more experience than I do.”

“It’s fitting,” said Teba at length, his voice much softer than usual.

“How so?”

“Your mother trained me when I was a fledgling...when my own father could not. Perhaps I owe her a debt.”

“You’ll have to pardon me,” said Laissa, tears springing suddenly her eyes. “I’m already quite emotional from brooding.”

Teba rested a wing on her shoulder, his expression softening as she hurriedly wiped at her tears.

“You have inherited a difficult role, with little instruction or experience,” Teba said, his usually gruff voice surprisingly kind. “You can always rely on me for help.”

**Kass**

The night at Outskirt Stable had gone more smoothly than Mimo had predicted, though it was clear that the islanders remained wary of Hylians. In some ways, Kass could not blame them; he had been nervous around both Hylians and Sheikah for many years after his teacher had saved him. The difference seemed to be that the delegates were nervous around Hylians for never having seen them before. Kass’s experience had left him with a far more concrete fear.

Though still worn from the flight the day before, the party set out to the southeast at earliest light, Mimo taking the lead as the first rays of sunlight burst over the horizon. The flight was quiet as the day wore on. Perhaps no one had the strength left to speak—Kass certainly didn’t. 

The sun was at its zenith as they neared Lake Hylia. They glided through the dampening air, the rough and rocky hills that bordered the lake below them velvety with moss. Mimo signalled to them, and the party set down briefly on the flat summit in the grassy range to have their midday meal. 

Kass stood along the edge of the small plateau and gazed out at the light glancing off of the lake as he ate the dried fruit and nuts.

“How do you manage it, Kass?”

Kass turned to find Harth had crept up beside him, seemingly unable to eat his own rations.

“Manage what?”

“Being away from your kids.”

“I miss them, of course,” Kass told him. “But I’ve grown used to travelling...though it’s difficult to return, to see how they’ve grown in your absence.”

“I don’t think I slept at all last night,” Harth confessed. “I just kept expecting Molli to wake me as she always does. Saki says she stays in her own hammock when she sleeps at their place, but there’s rarely a night when I can convince her that she needs to sleep on her own...perhaps my being away will help her.”

Kass was at a loss; Harth had never been a friend to him, but even Kass could see that grief had left Harth changed. Gone was the inflammatory ire—which Kass always seemed to spark in Harth just by glancing in his direction—and in its place, a weighty solemnity. Kass found he knew no better how to handle this new Harth than he had the old one.

“We ought to set out,” Kass finally said.

“Yeah,” Harth sighed.

Mimo led the group as they took flight once more, their shadows rippling over the rough ground far below. The world was a blur of verdant peaks and valleys from such heights. They made good time, the hills beneath them growing more rocky and less green as they headed south. By the time they reached Highland Stable, the sun hadn’t quite set, its rays scattering orange light across the fields of grass beyond the stable.

Kass spoke to the stable master, and paid for their stay before he joined the rest of the party around the cooking pot. He noticed that the Hylians had ceded the space to the Rito and stood cautiously back. Sighing, Kass approached a dark-haired man to ensure that there was no ill will.

“I hope my compatriots haven’t displaced you,” Kass attempted.

“Not at all,” the man assured him. “Though it’s rare that we see Rito other than Mimo in these parts.”

Kass joined Mimo where he crouched not far from the fire, his map unfurled on the grass as he showed Harth the route they were to take the next day. As Mimo’s finger landed on the southeastern fishing village, Kass could feel his blood grow cold as it at not in years.

“Mimo, we can’t stop there,” he said.

“It’s fine, Kass. I’ve been there many times.”

“Wait, Kass...is that where you came from?” Harth asked, his brow furrowed as though he was putting together fragments of an incomplete story.

Kass could not answer as the delegates stared across the fire at him. He inhaled shallowly and set out on foot behind the stable, his head abuzz with the sound of panic.

“Kass?” Harth called, but Kass needed to get away.

As Kass hopped the back fence the cows behind the stable—no doubt unused to Rito—paced to the opposite side of their little pasture, the bells around their necks clanging hollowly as they moved quickly away from him. Kass walked through the long grass between the sheer rock faces until he felt he was far enough from the stable. In an attempt to collect himself, he perched on a bit of grassy rock overhanging the lake that spilled down under a distant rickety bridge.

“Kass.”

Kass glanced up at the sound of wings, surprised to find that Hossa had followed him.

“I thought someone should...”

“It’s alright, Hossa,” Kass said.

“Mimo said something about..Lurelin? Were you hatched there?”

“I was.”

“How did a Tropical Rito such as yourself come to live in such a cold climate?”

Kass stared at Hossa. Though youthful, Kass found there was something in the way he conducted himself that spoke to some wisdom beyond his years. But Kass was not prepared to answer such questions, and dredge up the pain of his past with someone he knew so little.

“Tell me Hossa,” Kass began, “how did the Tropical Rito come to be on the islands?”

“The Hylians...chased them from the mainland.”

Kass searched his memory, trying to sift through the fractured flashes of his childhood for something that might correlate with Hossa’s account.

“We too have heard of Lurelin,” Hossa told him hesitantly.

“What?”

“Perhaps you ought to ask Tosk...I wasn’t even hatched...”

“Ask Tosk what?” Kass pressed.

“Kass...”

“Hossa, you brought this up. I don’t want to wade through Tosk’s tales for some kernel. Tell me plainly what you have heard.”

“Decades ago, a Rito arrived on the islands claiming he had killed the leader of that Hylian tribe in retribution for what they had done to his kin.”

“He lived,” Kass breathed in astonishment.

“You know of this Rito?”

“I heard of this...I feared at the time that I was the last of all the Rito in the world....”

“Kass. Should you wish to come live among your own tribe, I’m certain you would be welcomed.”

Kass stood, his beak agape at the idea. He had spent so many years, longing first for his kin, then for any Rito at all. By the time he had found them, Kass realized he had become so accustomed to living among Sheikah and Hylians that he would never truly fit in among the Rito. He could hardly imagine that he would fit in any more comfortably among the Tropical Rito than he did the Northern Rito. In any case, he couldn’t imagine Amali would have any interest in leaving her kind behind.

“I thank you for the offer,” said Kass curtly as he rose to return to the stable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps you recognize a rashomoned scene in this chapter? Turns out I needed it for consistency, and I’d rather show than tell.
> 
> Thanks for reading ^-^


	5. The Islands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Away from Teba and their families, Kass and Harth begin to put the conflicts of their past behind them.

**Kass**

They reached Lurelin in the early evening. For all Mimo had sworn that it had changed, Kass could only remember those long days of childhood—the last rays of sun glinting off the sea as he had gambolled along the beach with both Hylian and Rito children, returning home exhausted and covered in sand to his mother’s cooking, his father teaching him to fish. Even as he looked out at the peacefulness of the fishing village where they set down, Kass was lanced through with the reminder that those pleasant memories had ended in a river of blood.

Kass had long fought the habit of allowing his mind to return here unbidden, but as he stood in the sand and near the Goddess’s effigy, he could think only of the spirits that haunted his memory. The dark cloud cover rolled in quickly, but Kass could not unfix his eyes from the western edge of the village where the Rito cabanas had stood.

“I’ll secure lodging,” said Mimo.

Kass glanced back at the three delegates, all of them ill at ease. Whether it was from their knowledge of Lurelin or their usual wariness of Hylians, Kass could not say with any certainty.

“I need to...” Kass trailed off as he attempted to excuse himself.

He ignored Harth’s confused glance as he set out along the footpath, marked with boards half buried in the sand. The beginnings of rain rolled off Kass’s feathers as he reached the edge of the village and passed through the village gate—outside of the safety of the Hylians’ settlement. This was where the Rito had come to live sometime after the Calamity. For that reason alone, he should have known even at such a tender age that they were outsiders. The Rito cabanas had sat just outside the village, elevated from the tide in Tuft Mountain’s rocky foothills. Those who were an accepted part of the community were never forced to live on the outskirts as his people had been.

The rain had begun in earnest, little rivers trailing through pebbled sand beneath his talons to the sea. He stared up at the stony foothills where his parents’ cabana had once stood, time and flame having erased its existence. A terrible ache grew in his chest as he recalled the tiny hammock where he had once slept, woven in green and orange patterns, how the flames must have spread through the hempen strands, blackening it before it fell to ash along with everything else.

“You alright?”

Kass wiped his eyes—of rain or tears, he was not certain—and glanced to his side at Harth.

“Fine,” Kass told him tersely, his throat aching with emotion.

“The Hylians have been welcoming,” Harth told him tentatively.

“It’s easy to be welcoming in times of plenty.”

The silence stretched between them and Kass made no effort to return to the village. The world had grown dark, save for the twinkling through the slats of the cabanas, the mist from the rain casting halos of light around the village. For a long time, Harth said nothing as he stood by Kass’s side.

“What are you looking at?” Harth asked at last, no hint of malice in his tone.

“This was...where I was hatched,” Kass told him. “We had a home on one of these rocks.”

“So the rumours about you...”

“I imagine there’s some truth remaining in them,” Kass said, inhaling sharply.

“Kass, are we in danger?”

“Mimo is certain that we’re not...when last I passed this way, the village leader had made changes...”

“I know you don’t have much of a warrior’s instinct, but what do _you_ think?”

Kass shook his head. He had sworn to bury this, to let go of this pain, but as he stood on the beach where he had once played, staring at shadows of the past, he knew he could find no rest here.

“The only danger is to me,” Kass eventually said.

Harth sighed, but Kass kept his eyes fixed on that phantom image where his home had once stood.

“Come back to the inn,” said Harth.

“I fear I won’t sleep a wink.”

“As long as you don’t keep me up...”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I drew the short reed.”

“So long as you keep to your side of the bed, I doubt I should have any reason to disturb your sleep.”

Kass continued to stare at the bare rocks, their slick faces glinting with the barest light from the village. Finally, he felt Harth take him by the elbow.

“I don’t want to spend the night out here,” said Harth, the gentleness by which he drew Kass along with him betraying the brusqueness in his tone.

Kass unfixed his eyes as Harth encouraged him toward the village gate. Glancing over at Harth, bedraggled in is leather cuirass, Kass could not help but feel grateful that some of the tension between them had eased.

When they arrived at the inn, only Mimo still remained awake. He sat in his bed, reading a book from one of the inn’s small collection by the warm light of the lantern.

“I thought I’d have to go out after you,” Mimo told them snidely.

“If we had been eaten by lizalfos, then you would have followed us in short order,” Harth told him irritably as he stripped off his wet leather.

“Enough,” Kass told them.

He shed his own cuirass and settled into the low bed, leaving as much space for Harth as he could.

“Put out your lantern, Mimo,” Harth told him as he lay down beside Kass.

Mimo muttered something under his breath as he opened the flattened horn panel and blew out the lantern, plunging the room into darkness. As Kass’s eyes adjusted, he could see a bit of light filtering through shuttered window slats. Beside him, Harth shifted uncomfortably on the hard bed, and Kass resigned himself to attempt sleep.

**Harth**

The beds in Lurelin’s inn were somehow even less comfortable than those musty mattresses at the stables. Harth slept badly, unable to get comfortable on his side of the bed. Each time he awoke and glanced back at Kass, Harth could see the lights from outside reflecting in Kass’s eyes as he stared at the ceiling. No one else seemed to be sleeping much either—Harth could hear the delegates and Mimo shifting uncomfortably in their beds throughout the night.

Before sunrise, Harth sighed in frustration and roused his stiff body from the bed. The air remained wet and warm inside of the inn, and Harth pulled on his still damp leather in the oppressive humidity. Seeing Harth had given up on sleep, the rest of the party began rise as well.

“Let’s eat and head out,” Mimo suggested.

“I’m certainly ready to take my leave of this place,” Soni agreed darkly.

It was cooler outside, the breeze coming off the sea brought with it the tang of salt, refreshing Harth in spite of his poor sleep. The damp sand worked its way uncomfortably under the leather thongs on Harth’s leg-wraps as they made for the open fire on the beach. Kass and Soni caught fish in the clear water near the dock, and as their meal roasted on harpoons by the fire, Harth stood atop a nearby rock to watch the first rays of sun on the low horizon.

“We should make it to the islands by sunset.” At the sound of her voice, Harth turned to see that Soni had joined him on the rock.

“Is it any cooler there?” Harth asked.

“Warmer, actually.”

The climate here was already uncomfortably warm for Harth, not to mention, full of sand and salt that lodged beneath his feathers and scratched at his skin.

“We should eat,” Soni said. “None of us want to be here any longer than necessary.”

Harth followed her down to the fire and resolved to ask her what she knew about Lurelin. What little he knew of the place had come from distorted accounts of what Kass had told the elder when he first arrived in Rito Village. Beyond a few bleak fragments, Harth had never been able to get the entire story.

They ate their roasted fish and refilled their water skins in the spring before they took off in the direction of that bright horizon. The beauty of the early morning light glinting on the ripples of the sea below soon lost its allure as the sun rose higher in the sky, and Harth’s dark feathers seemed to nearly melt to his skin in its unyielding glare.

“We should set down,” Mimo suggested, gesturing to an island below. “I know this place. It’s safe as long as we land up near the shrine.”

As they set down, Harth felt nearly sick from the heat. He staggered in the grass and felt a hand on his wing.

“Kass, I’m fine,” Harth protested, shaking off Kass’s grip.

Kass said nothing as he pressed an open skin into Harth’s hand. Harth tipped the tepid water into his beak and nearly choked, water running down his neck in beads as he spluttered.

“How do you survive this heat, Mimo?” Harth panted.

“I grew used to it I suppose,” Mimo shrugged. “There’s a pool in the rocks there.”

Harth gazed out beyond the island to a cluster of rocks where a basin formed in the centre. It seemed a safer choice than a dip straight into the sea, so Harth glided out to the skerry and set down near the cool water that filled the impression in the centre, and set aside his pack and weapons on the sun-warmed stone. As he unbound his leg-wraps, the sand which had stuck in them that morning came loose and scattered onto the pitted rock.

His cuirass was still damp on the inside from the night before, and he laid it to dry with the rest of his clothes and provisions before he partially submerged himself in the salty water and tried to scrub the sand from under his plumage. Around him, the high sun glinted harshly off of the greenish water, and when he looked out to where the sea met the sky he had the most unpleasant feeling of not standing on stable ground.

“Harth, are you doing alright?”

Harth scrubbed the water from his face and pushed back his damp hair before he turned to find Soni perched near his clothes. He had not heard her set down over the sound of waves and the water that ran down over his head and neck.

“Did Kass send you?” asked Harth, turning his back to her as he continued to draw cool water over his chest and shoulders.

“I’m here on my own accord. You seemed unwell.”

“I’m alright. A little better at least.”

“Is it the heat?”

Harth nodded. “I may be poorly adapted to this climate.”

“Your beautiful plumage likely does not help matters,” Soni said easily.

“I’m sorry?” Harth spluttered. Had he heard her correctly?

“You must simply soak up the light of the sun. Feathers so dark are rare among the islanders.”

“They serve me well enough in the cold,” Harth said a little defensively, still unsure where Soni was going with this.

“Do you think you’ll be ready to continue on? If we’re to make it by sundown, we need to be away.”

“I’m ready,” Harth told her shortly as he stepped back up onto the stones, water still running in rivulets from his feathers.

“Here,” she said, handing him a water skin. “You need to drink more.”

“I don’t need to be monitored,” he told her sharply, though he drank some of the water anyway.

“It’s quite apparent you’ve never had to venture out in such a climate.”

Harth didn’t respond as he handed back the skin and began to pull on his clothes. Much like Rito in their own village, Soni seemed unbothered by Harth’s state of undress, though he felt unexpectedly exposed under her gaze.

“Well,” said Harth, securing his pack. “Shall we?”

**Kass**

They reached the islands as the sky was darkening, turning the clouds on the horizon purple and grey as the last rays slipped away behind the distant sea. The main island hosted a large, dormant volcano at its centre, but from the sky Kass could see where the Rito had built upward along it’s edges but the tracts of cleared jungle. 

Kass was struck by how much the settlement resembled Rito Village, and yet was nothing like it at all. Bridges were strung between landings which were raised up from the ground on bamboo stilts and secured to tall palm trees that grew up through openings in the boards. The roosts were made of bamboo and reeds and more closely resembled the light-weight cabanas of the Rito who had lived in Lurelin than the sturdy roosts of Rito Village. Torches burned at intervals along the boardwalks, their welcoming flames shivering in the soft breeze. The most apparent difference between the two settlements were the populations. 

They set down on a landing, the bamboo an unusual texture beneath Kass’s talons after spending years traversing the flat hardwood of Rito Village. As he gazed around the walks, Kass was astonished by the Rito who milled about—perhaps more than he had ever known in his entire life—and so many looked as though they had come from his tribe. Kass’s moment of wonder was cut short by a wing clutching his.

“Kass,” Harth hissed as he bent nearly double.

Kass took Harth’s plea for help as a desperate sign, and put a wing around his shoulders to try and steady him.

“I don’t think Harth’s had enough water today,” Mimo commented.

“I just keep drinking,” Harth protested. “I don’t know where it seems to go.”

“We need rest,” Kass told Tosk.

“Soni, secure lodging for our guests,” Tosk commanded. “Hossa, get some food and drink.” Soni and Hossa left quickly to do Tosk’s bidding

Beside Kass, Harth seemed to falter for a moment. Mimo flinched as Harth grabbed his wing, and quickly yanked it back. With a sharp glance at Mimo, Kass drew Harth’s wing over his shoulders and pulled him close to keep him upright.

“Tosk, is there anywhere we might sit down?” Kass pressed, concerned that neither of his Northern companions were in any shape to stand about in the oppressive humidity of the jungle. If he was honest, Kass himself had grown unused to the warm climate as well.

“Follow me,” Tosk said as he led them across the gently swaying bridge. “You know, we had a few Northerners settle here...the climate was not kind to them.”

“Goddess when will this end?” Harth breathed as Kass urged him across the bridge.

“It’s alright. You just need some rest,” Kass assured him.

“I meant Tosk.”

“Harth, hush,” Kass muttered, hoping to avoid a diplomatic incident.

By the time they had crossed the bridge, Soni awaited them on the next landing to lead the way to their lodgings. It was a small, elevated cabana on a lower level of the boardwalk. Inside, a tall palm tree grew up through the middle of the hexagonal floor, and three hammocks were strung spoke-like between the tree and the framing in the back half of the cabana.

Kass took Harth’s weapons and handed them to Mimo before he helped Harth into the lowest hammock. Harth shivered and pulled at his cuirass. As Kass stood to address Soni and Tosk, Harth grasped at his wing miserably. As he spoke to their hosts, Kass held onto Harth’s shaking wing, praying that they would let them have the night to recover their strength after such a long journey.

“We thank you for your hospitality, but I fear we are in no shape to attend to any kind of diplomacy tonight,” Kass said pointedly.

“We can have someone stay with Harth,” Tosk said. “The council would be interested in your story, Kass.”

“I’m afraid I must insist that we rest” Kass told Tosk firmly as Harth gripped his hand more tightly. He supposed that Harth had no desire to be left with strangers in his condition.

“We’ll send Hossa with food and drink. ’Til the morrow,” Tosk bid them as they left.

“I’m going to see if I can find Hossa,” said Mimo, excusing himself as Tosk disappeared down the boardwalk. Kass suspected that Mimo had no intention of doing any such thing, and simply didn’t want to be dragged into caring for Harth in this state.

Seeing Harth struggling with the buckles on the cuirass, Kass pulled his hand from the frantic grip and helped him unfasten them and remove the offending garment.

“Don’t you want to see your people?” Harth asked.

“Tomorrow,” Kass told him as he hung the slightly damp garment over the stool near the sideboard.

“Why wait?”

“Because you’re quite unwell. I think Teba would be disappointed if I let you suffer alone,” Kass lied.

“Since when have you cared what Teba thought?”

Harth’s dark feathers were grainy and stained with white salt from seawater where Kass placed his wing on Harth’s chest to feel his erratic lifebeat. Concerned, Kass once more took Harth’s shaking hand, hoping to calm him, and prayed that Hossa would soon return.

“You’re shivering,” Kass observed. “You can’t possibly feel cold.”

“I don’t know what I feel. Why didn’t you go with them?”

“Aside from you not letting me?”

“Don’t lay this on me.”

“These aren’t my people, Harth,” Kass said quietly. “This place is as strange to me as it is to you.”

“What are you talking about?” Harth chided with attempted lightness, though his chest rose and fell rapidly. “They look just like you.”

Kass could not explain the horrible desolation that was descending upon him. For all he had never fit quite right into Rito Village, he had adapted enough for it to feel like home—or at least as much as home as any place had since he had left the safety of Olin’s little cottage. This island was overwhelming in its familiarity, and yet it was foreign to him, just as he knew he would be to the Rito who lived here. 

Fortunately, Kass was spared having to explain these troubling thoughts by Hossa’s arrival. Hossa set down the platter he bore on the side table, and poured something into a carved wooden cup. Kass put a wing behind Harth’s shoulders to help him sit upright.

“Drink this,” Hossa insisted, handing the cup to Harth.

As Harth drank, Kass kept one hand on his shoulder, one on his wing to keep him from dropping the cup. That Harth didn’t protest the help was itself concerning.

“What is this?” Harth asked as he finished.

“A mix of fruit juices and water. You should have more to drink.”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“Mimo settled in much more quickly,” Hossa observed as Kass took the drained cup from Harth.

“Well, you didn’t much like the cold,” Harth pointed out as he lay back, still shivering. “You can’t expect me to take to the heat right away.”

“I enjoyed the snow by the Flight Range,” said Hossa as he placed damp cloths on Harth’s forehead and chest. “The cold was refreshing in its own way, but to see the world in shimmering monochrome, framed by mountains was...sublime.”

“Are all Tropical Rito such poets?” Harth teased, though Kass heard none of the usual acid in his tone.

“Hossa, don’t feel obligated to stay,” Kass told their host a little crossly. 

Harth’s failure to recognize that Kass’s background in poetry was a gift that he had inherited under Olin’s tutelage irritated him more than he could explain. Though Kass bore Hossa no ill will, he was already growing tired of the comparisons to the islanders. Somehow, being among the people who were ostensibly his, yet so very unfamiliar, left him feeling a stronger allegiance to the roots he had laid down in both Rito Village and among the Sheikah.

“I’ll go if you wish,” said Hossa accommodatingly. “But it might be to your benefit to have me here if you are in need of anything.”

“Harth,” Kass said irately, too annoyed to dispute Hossa’s logic. “Have something more to drink.”


	6. To Witness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding, a feast, a confrontation...nothing goes quite right.

**Laissa**

The day was cool and crisp, the soft light of the season partially obscured by wisps of clouds that drifted through the blue sky. Bedoli and Huck stood before the statue of the Goddess, their wings loosely entwined as they readied themselves to make their vows. As she watched, Laissa shifted uncomfortably, her cuirass resting uncomfortably against the balding brood patch on her stomach.

Autumn weddings were unusual in Rito custom, but Bedoli and Huck seemed eager to get it out of the way. Given that they had both been jilted, Laissa supposed she couldn’t blame them, but she was wary of Huck. When she tried to tell her sister of her concerns, Bedoli wouldn’t hear it. In many ways, Bedoli was of a similar mind to Huck—both of them stubborn traditionalists. Though Laissa had sensed the currents of anger and jealousy in her sister’s dismissal, and wondered if Bedoli had sought a quick union to wash away the shame of losing Gesane to a Hylian.

“Bedoli, I pledge myself to you, and only you, that we may join ourselves in the rite of union,” recited Huck.

“I accept your pledge. Huck, I pledge myself to you, and only you, that by our union we might build our family and build for the next generation.”

“I accept your pledge.”

Their vows were ones of duty, unlike the ones Laissa and Mazli had exchanged only a few moons past. As Laissa recalled their own impassioned declarations of love, she couldn’t help but reach out to brush the back of her wing against Mazli’s, catching one of his fingers with hers. Goddess, they had been so young and stupid.

As Huck and Bedoli brushed their beaks together, Nekk let out hearty laugh and clapped Huck on the shoulder. Behind her, Laissa could hear Teba’s rumbling sigh, not quite subtly suppressed. He had confessed to her earlier that he hated this duty, and would have sent Kass to bear witness had he been around.

“My mother’s not going to want to sit with the egg much longer,” Mazli whispered to Laissa.

“Alright. Let’s say our congratulations and you can go take over.”

“I thought it was your turn. You have some important First Warrior stuff to attend to?”

“I thought you realized that this was what it was to be married to the First Warrior,” she teased, nudging her beak against the side of his.

“I just hadn’t anticipated us having an egg so soon.”

Neither had Laissa, if she was being completely honest. Every time she thought about how it had glimmered with life when they candled it, her heart nearly burst with anxiety in a way it never did when she engaged foes in battle. They were still far too young and stupid for this.

“Bedoli, Huck,” she greeted the couple as they approached. “Congratulations.”

“Not going to welcome me to the family?” Huck teased.

“You seem to have no problem making yourself at home.”

“I certainly don’t, sister.”

“Perhaps let’s not be so familiar.”

“Congratulations,” said Mazli. “I hope your marriage is fruitful.”

“Yes, you’ve set a nearly impossible standard for growing your family so quickly,” said Bedoli bitingly.

“Right, shall we go?” Mazli asked as he cast Laissa a look of agitation. “I want to go now. Let’s go.”

“Congratulations again,” said Laissa as she gratefully allowed Mazli to pull her past Teba and up the boardwalk

“I’m exhausted,” said Mazli, not letting go of her hand as they passed the shops. “I don’t know how I’m going to stand watch tonight.”

“I shortened it to three watches...I don’t know what more I can do.”

“Can Gesane really not come back?”

“Maz, don’t talk about this on the boardwalk,” she warned him under her breath as she glanced back at the Slippery Falcon.

To his credit, Mazli didn’t bring up Gesane again until they had returned to their roost. Once Idda had left them on their own, Mazli settled at the back of their roost and held the egg to his bare skin, blanket wrapped around them both, and watched as Laissa slung her bow.

“What’s wrong with Gesane anyway?” Mazli groused.

“I can’t say.”

“What good is it being married to the First Warrior if she treats me just the same as all of the other warriors.”

Laissa crouched in front of Mazli and brushed her beak against his. Anxious though she was about parenthood, she had never found him so endearing as she did when she watched him holding their egg.

“I certainly don’t treat you as I treat the other warriors,” Laissa told him as she rested a wing over his on the egg. “ _This_ should be a testament to that.”

“When will you be back?” Mazli asked as she rose. She knew he was eager to rest, and resolved to visit the post on the bridge as quickly as possible.

“As soon as I can.”

Laissa left the roost and took off from a gap in the boardwalk. The chill air worked its way under her leather armour, and she found herself much colder than she had ever before felt as she lost heat from the thinning patch on her abdomen. She would have to see about finding a wrap the keep out winter’s chill soon, though she was uncertain if Nekk would still serve her after her public endorsement of Teba for the role of Elder.

As she glided above the stacks, she was surprised when her eye caught both Guy and Gesane standing on the stack nearest the mainland, and supposed that Gesane must be on his way to the stable. He had not yet asked about returning to duty, for which Laissa was relieved hesitant to bring up the topic herself. She circled once before she set down in the cool grass. As she grew closer to the guards, she saw that Guy appeared to be trying to calm Gesane, his abandoned spear leaning against the rocky outcrop near the pond as he held Gesane’s shoulders.

“Sorry to intrude,” said Laissa.

As she approached, Gesane shrugged off Guy’s grip and attempted to collect himself.

“Did something happen?” she asked as Guy took up his spear once more.

“Nothing, it’s fine,” said Gesane.

“Someone’s been throwing animal parts in our roost,” Guy told her.

“ _My_ roost,” Gesane protested.

“What kind of parts?” Laissa asked, her blood running cold.

Gesane ground his beak in agitation, and Guy cast him a concerned glance.

“Usually bones,” said Guy when it appeared that Gesane was not going to disclose anything. “And apparently some organs...”

“I’ve received a few of those threats recently as well,” Laissa admitted.

After she had taken up the title of First Warrior she had found dead pigeons in her hammock on two occasions, and Mazli had told her that he sometimes found bones in their doorway. It was an act of aggression, she knew, but she was not about to rise over a few soup bones.

“You know who’s doing it,” Gesane said darkly, his brows knit.

“I don’t.”

“I think we might need to talk to Teba about this,” said Guy cautiously. “We need to see if anyone else is receiving these threats.”

“It was Huck last time, it’ll be him again!” Gesane nearly shouted. Laissa was surprised to see Gesane was shaking. He jerked away from the calming wing Guy laid on his shoulder and turned to face her. “Laissa, they’re targeting us because we’ve broken with tradition.”

“How have I broken with tradition?” Laissa asked him sharply.

“A woman hasn’t served as First Warrior since before our parents hatched.”

“Gesane, we’ll speak with Teba,” said Guy. “Try to be calm.”

“I can’t anymore! There are stains from the guts left on my rug! I can’t be calm about this!” Gesane shouted, his hand bunched in the fabric of his scarf.

“It’s alright,” said Guy as took Gesane’s face in both of his hands, the spear resting in the crook of his wing. “We’ll take care of this.”

Laissa watched helplessly as Gesane clutched at Guy’s wings as he tried to catch his breath. Even as children, Laissa had never known Gesane to be anything but calm and reserved—to see him in such a state now was unsettling. More and more, Gesane seemed to be walking wounded, spilling his insides wherever he went.

“I’m staying at the stable,” Gesane told Guy as he stepped back.

“You shouldn’t be afraid to stay in your own home,” Guy called after Gesane as he plodded down the bridge.

Gesane neither turned back nor responded, and Guy fiddled with the spear in his hand as he stared after him. With Gesane gone, Guy seemed somehow deflated.

“Guy,” Laissa hazarded. “I know you’re quite preoccupied right now...”

“Isn’t everyone?” he asked tensely.

“Look....do you need help?”

Guy turned back to stare at Laissa, and she could see the sleeplessness in his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“If you need anything—”

“Teba would have never poked his beak into the personal lives of his warriors,” said Guy with an edge to his tone that Laissa had rarely heard.

“Don’t try to compare me to Teba,” she told him, the same hard tone entering her voice unbidden. “The warriors have been in decline for years, and all I can do is be here for those few of us who remain.”

Guy exhaled deeply and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said at length. “That was unfair of me.”

“I just want to help. We’re all caught up in this together right now. It may be Huck, as Gesane said, but he’s far from the only one who was upset by the changes Teba’s made.”

“It’s growing difficult to feel safe,” Guy admitted. “How can Gesane feel safe if none of the rest of us do either?”

Guy hadn’t mentioned anything, but Laissa couldn’t deny that she had heard rumours surrounding his move into Gesane’s roost. Though she didn’t suspect anything between them now, it didn’t help their case that their past was less a secret than they seemed to think it was—at least among those who had trained as novices with them at any rate. If Guy knew of the whispers, he was almost certainly shielding Gesane from feeling doubly targeted.

“I _will_ bring this to Teba,” Laissa promised him.

“And then what? They think he’s soft for banning harsh punishments.”

“Was the fear of punishment really the only thing that was preventing these disgusting displays?” Laissa lamented, her faith in her fellow Rito somehow still declining.

“I don’t know. I think they were content with the order of things before. Abolishing harsh punishments has simply emboldened them.”

“Guy,” she sighed, “let Teba worry about this. You have enough worries of your own.”

Guy nodded, though it wasn’t precisely a gesture of agreement. 

“I hate to place more upon your overburdened shoulders,” Laissa said. “But the delegation will be returning with warriors-to-be. I would like you to take on the role of novice trainer.”

“It should probably be Gesane,” Guy protested.

“I have no doubt I will need you both before this is through. Do you accept?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really.”

“Then I suppose you have my answer.”

“Good,” said Laissa as she turned to take off.

**Kass**

Harth remained ill in his hammock for two days after their arrival to the island. Kass had sorely hoped that he would not be forced to meet the ruling council with only Mimo, but the heat had affected Harth so badly that Kass feared to even leave him alone, let alone drag him from his hammock for a day of gruelling meetings. While Kass and Mimo met with the council with Tosk and Hossa, Soni was left behind in their accommodations to watch over Harth.

The council had been receptive to the idea of recruiting warriors-in-training to travel back to the village with them, but Kass was at a loss of what to look for in potential recruits, and Mimo was hardly any more helpful. By the end of the second day, they had set up a plan to call for recruits, though Kass was unwilling to accept any before Harth could assess the candidates.

“You are all welcome to join us at the brazier for the feast of the full moon,” Tosk told Mimo and Kass as they crossed the swaying bridge back toward their cabana.

“I should see to Harth,” Kass said, still apprehensive after having to answer questions of his past, just as he had when he had arrived at Rito Village for the first time.

“Soni is with him,” Tosk pointed out.

“C’mon Kass, they have good food here,” Mimo pressed.

“I’ll come for a moment. To eat,” Kass told him firmly.

“Everyone’s so eager to meet you,” Hossa told him.

“To meet me?”

“You’re the only other person known to have escaped the Lurelin massacre.”

“Other?” asked Kass, his stomach in knots. “Someone still lives?”

“His name is Tyth, he’s certain to be there,” Hossa said.

Kass couldn’t recall ever hearing that name, but he was ashamed to admit that he had never even known his parents names beyond Mama and Papa. The rest of the party had already turned down another swinging bridge toward the brazier that sat in the foothills of the dormant volcano. Kass desperately wanted to turn back, but he found he couldn’t seem to communicate that to his feet, which trudged dutifully onward beside Mimo.

While Tosk pontificated on about the historical significance of the festival, Kass’s head felt as though it was filled with wool. He couldn’t seem to follow anything that was being said as they arrived at the mountainside plaza.

It was built of bamboo, just as everything seemed to be here. Until now, Kass had only seen it from a distance, but now he could see the vendors stalls which lined the edges of the broad landing. Rito mingled with one another and danced to the rhythmic music of drummers and singers, unlike anything Kass had ever heard before.

As he glanced around at the chaos, the music buzzed dissonantly through his his chest, and the laughter of the Rito around him felt suddenly threatening. The colours of the tropical feather’s seemed to swirl together as he glanced about, unable to comprehend anything Mimo way saying to him. Hossa placed a banana leaf of roasted tropical fruits and fish into Kass’s hands, and he stared at the food, his stomach very nearly in revolt.

“Kass, eat something,” Hossa insisted, but Kass could only shake his head numbly as he tried to hand back the leaf.

“Kass,” hissed Mimo warningly beside him. “It’s not polite to refuse food.”

Trying to recall that Teba had sent them on this mission with a purpose, Kass forced himself to have a small bite of the fruit. He glanced up at the Rito—all tropical, save for Mimo—milling about on the landing. As Kass saw Tosk approaching with another aged Rito, he felt Mimo take his leaf from his shaking hands. 

“Kass, may I introduce Tyth,” said Tosk pompously.

Kass stared at the old Rito’s plumage—green with a yellow breast had been common among those who lived in Lurelin. He recalled that his own father had had similar markings.

“Kass...” breathed the old Rito. “I know this name...though you look far too young to have lived through such a time.”

“How...do you know my name?”

Tyth hesitated, a sudden sadness in his expression, but said nothing. All Kass could recall was what he had heard from the old leader of Lurelin all those years ago—of the Rito who had returned in a fit of rage to kill her brother. Had this frail old man really committed such a heinous act? Though Kass’s own wings were hardly free of blood...

“Do you truly not know me?” Tyth finally said.

Kass stepped backwards away from Tyth, nearly tripping over the uneven bamboo beneath his feet.

“Kass?” called Mimo.

“I’m going...I have to go,” Kass managed to wheeze.

As he stumbled across the bridges, dodging the Rito he passed, Kass was not able to retrace his steps. Coming to a stop, he stood on an unfamiliar landing and looked around at the jungle which surrounded the boardwalks. A twinge of panic rising in his chest, he realized he recognized nothing and, through the haze in his mind, he couldn’t seem to recall the name of the section where he and his companions were lodged.

“Kass.”

Kass leapt at the touch of a wing on his shoulder, his heart pounding in his throat.

“Hossa,” he breathed, annoyed that the delegate had become a green shadow to him once more.

“I assume you have no intention of returning to the festival?”

“You assume correctly.”

“Let me walk you to your cabana,” said Hossa graciously.

“You need only tell me where it is,” Kass responded testily as he followed Hossa along the bridges and landings.

“Tosk shouldn’t have done that so publicly,” said Hossa.

“He has a remarkable lack of understanding for someone who is meant to negotiate with others,” Kass agreed.

“I doubt you should have to deal with him for long. He has no interest in a return trip to your village.”

“And you?”

“I intend to join you. It’ll be easier to plan where we might settle if we have some idea of what awaits us in Hyrule.”

“Hopefully Harth will feel well enough that we can begin recruiting warriors soon,” said Kass.

“I imagine Soni will be disappointed that we’ve interrupted.”

“I’m sorry?”

“ _Ahm_....”

“Hossa, perhaps you can take Soni to the festival and leave me to see to Harth.”

“I can’t take Soni to the festival.”

“Why not? It looked as though there was plenty—” Kass cut himself off. He had seen no seabirds among the revellers. “I see.”

“I don’t like it either,” said Hossa. “But I’m hardly likely to change anyone’s minds on my own.”

Kass couldn’t bring himself to say aloud the many things he found distasteful about this place. He wanted to return to Rito Village to help Teba ensure such terrible fractures didn’t begin to tear their people apart. He wanted to hold his children close, and remind them that they had come from a place of love. He wanted to curl up next to Amali, and forget this unhappy journey. Instead, as they came to their lodging, he realized he might very well spend another night awake with Harth.

Inside, Harth sat on the floor against the half-wall of the cabana, showing Soni his falcon bow. He still seemed shaky, unable to fully draw the bowstring as he demonstrated, but Soni listened with rapt attention as he pointed out where he had improved upon the previous design.

“Soni,” said Hossa meaningfully.

“We’ll speak again tomorrow, Harth,” she said as she got to her feet. “Kass,” she acknowledged him with a nod as she left the cabana with Hossa.

There had been something in the way Soni had said Harth’s name, Kass thought, a smile in her voice that softened the rough sounds. It was so unlike the way anyone in Rito Village ever said it. Kass wondered if Harth knew.

“I have to assume you’re feeling a little better, since this is the first I’ve seen you out of your hammock since we arrived,” Kass remarked.

“Well enough to eat again at any rate.”

Kass sat down across from Harth. His expression had grown a little gloomier since the delegates had left, though Kass knew talking about his craft always brought a smile to his face.

“Is this one new?” Kass asked, tapping the falcon bow which rested limply in Harth’s wings.

“Not very,” said Harth. The silence dragged on between them until Harth finally said, “Kass, I hate it here.”

“So do I,” said Kass quietly.

“Soni told me...the islanders are divided. The Tropical Rito get the best of everything because they have more positions on the council and her people work themselves to death on the shores.”

“I’ve read the Chronicle. Our own village wasn’t so different not long ago,” Kass said darkly.

“Now we’re too few to suffer such divisions.”

Though, Kass thought grimly, they had enough divisions of their own.

“They’re leaving these islands,” Kass pointed out. “Perhaps they’ll be able to build something better elsewhere.”

Harth inhaled sharply and set aside his bow. Kass cautiously extended his wing to him and Harth took it to steady himself.

“Please warn me if you’re about to be sick.”

“I think I just need to lie down,” said Harth, digging into Kass’s feathers a little.

“Is this you asking for help?” Kass asked dryly.

“Is this you making me beg?” Harth returned, a little of his usual acid back in his tone.

“Of course not,” Kass said, putting a wing around Harth to pull him to his feet and help him into the hammock. “When have I ever withheld help from you?”

Harth sucked in his breath as he lay back in the hammock, gripping Kass’s wing as he grit his beak against whatever discomforts assailed him.

“You need to keep drinking water,” Kass reminded him.

“Kass,” said Harth seriously, not letting him go. “I’ve been cruel to you.”

“You’re not dying, Harth, you needn’t confess your darkest secrets,” Kass remarked, trying to hide his surprise that Harth even recognized this.

“I know,” Harth snapped bitterly. “I need to apologize to you. You’ve never been anything but kind to me, and I haven’t shown you the same consideration.”

Kass sat in silence for a moment, still holding Harth’s hand.

“Is this meant to be your apology?” Kass finally asked, a little uncharitably.

“I’m sorry, Kass,” said Harth crossly, taking his hand back.

“I accept your apology,” said Kass. Seeing the irritation in Harth’s features, he added, “you’ve changed for the best.”

“It took...feeling the worst pain I could imagine before I could understand the damage I do to others.”

Caught off guard by Harth’s sincerity, Kass rested his wing over Harth’s. The white trails of sea salt still sat in gritty ribbons over the dark feathers. Kass could see that distant look of grief still lingering in Harth’s expression, but he found himself unable to engage with Harth’s pain when he was still so uneasy from the experience near the brazier.

“You should have some more water.”

**Teba**

When Teba had taken over as Village Elder, it had been with the full knowledge that his ascent was not met with the kind of support that Kaneli had managed to garner over his years in the role. Most of the tribe had scarcely known a time when Kaneli hadn’t been Elder. Though the transition had gone smoothly enough, the changes that Teba had already enacted were met with resistance from a vocal minority. Teba knew there were problems, but it wasn’t until one chilly morning in late autumn that he realized how bad things had become.

The dead pigeon landed with a soft thud across the open book on Teba’s side table.

“You’ve been wasting time, and now my family is being threatened.”

Teba looked up from his work to see Amali’s unhappy expression, her beak quivering as she stared at him.

“Amali—”

“Someone left this in Kass’s bed while I slept—while _my children_ slept.”

Teba stood and removed the stiff carcass from his side table and set it on the back landing.

“Did you see who did it?” Teba asked her.

“No, but you must do something!”

“I can’t harass everyone in the village looking for answers,” Teba sighed.

“Teba, what you do is none of my concern, so long as you restore order!”

“For someone who was so eager to see me in this role, you seem to have a difficult time accepting that change is never as smooth as you hope it to be,” Teba told her acerbically.

“Well you certainly didn’t run the warriors with such lax discipline!”

Teba didn’t quite have the words to express the difference between the two roles. As angry as Amali was, Teba doubted that she would have listened anyway. Had it been anyone else shouting at him so early in the day, Teba suspected he would not have been able to muster the patience to remain calm. Hot-tempered though she was, Teba could see that the very real fear in Amali’s eyes.

Teba was saved from having to explain himself with Guy and Laissa’s arrival to his roost, but their expressions told him that this visit was not to be any more pleasant than Amali’s.

“Teba,” said Laissa, “we need to talk about the carcasses that keep turning up in our roosts.”

“You as well?” Teba asked darkly.

“Pigeons again. Two in my roost, one in Gesane’s.”

“I found it in Gesane’s hammock this morning. He’s still away, it must have happened when I was on watch last night,” Guy speculated.

Teba was not surprised to learn that Gesane seemed to be sleeping regularly at the stable.

“This is out of control,” Amali snapped.

“Guy, were you targeted?” Teba asked.

“I didn’t find anything. I think it was just Gesane.”

“Laissa, you and Mazli are brooding. Were either of you awake?”

“Mazli fell asleep with the egg last night,” said Laissa flatly.

“Were they left in your hammocks?”

“In our doorway.”

“Teba, do you not see the pattern?” Amali pressed.

“The only pattern I see is pigeons.”

“They all declared for you at the ousting.”

“What?” When Teba thought back, he found all he could remember of that day was Gesane wrapped in his blanket with fever-bright eyes, shaking as he endorsed Teba.

“Mazli didn’t formally declare for Teba,” Laissa pointed out.

“He picked a fight with Nekk,” Amali recalled.

Teba sighed, that familiar pain returning to his head. Goddess, Harth would love this.

“I don’t want to speculate,” said Laissa cautiously, “but it seems as though someone wants to get your attention, Teba.”

Whether they were directly involved or not, Teba was certain that Nekk and Huck would have an idea of who was leaving such disgusting displays in the homes of his alleged supporters. As he collected the stiff pigeon from the back landing, Teba desperately wished he had not sent both Kass and Harth away.

“Laissa,” he said, an unintended gruffness entering his tone. “Accompany me.”

“What about us?” Amali protested, though Guy appeared content enough not to get involved.

“I don’t want to cause a stir. Stay here or return to your roost, I have no preference.”

Teba stalked down the boardwalk, Laissa following quickly behind him, pacing her smaller strides to match him.

“Let me speak with them.”

“What would you have me do?” Laissa asked.

“It’s to our benefit to show a united front—Elder and First Warrior.”

“I hate to say it, but isn’t that what got you and Kaneli into trouble?”

Teba only grumbled in response. Somehow all of those things that Teba had suspected that Kaneli had done in some attempt to secure power appeared more pragmatic as he stalked down to the Brazen Beak. Surely, the old Rito must be laughing at his naïveté.

“ _Teba_ ,” Laissa pressed.

“I don’t want to go alone,” he finally said.

Laissa’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but she nodded her understanding. Ashamed of the apprehension he felt growing inside of him at the inevitable conflict that awaited him at the clothiers, Teba cleared his throat and quickened his pace—better to just get this over with.

Nekk and Huck were readying the shop for the day. Huck added an intricately embossed bandoleer to the leather work display as Nekk swept the dust and stray spruce needles out from behind the counter. The latter looked up as he saw Teba and Laissa enter, a sharp glint in his eye.

“Well, if the young Elder himself hasn’t just walked into my humble shop,” Nekk taunted.

Teba crossed the shop and dumped the pigeon onto Nekk’s counter with a rustle of stiffened feathers on wood. Huck set down the rest of his display to come stare at the poor creature, his features betraying his amusement.

“You know we only accept rupees now, Teba,” Huck joked, but Nekk stared across the counter with a steely countenance.

“You have my attention,” Teba told Nekk coldly.

“Get that carcass out of my shop,” Nekk responded with equal frost in his tone.

“I’ve received a lot of complaints about this shop,” Teba pressed. “That you’ve refused to serve customers. Is there any truth to this?”

“We reserve the right to serve or not serve anyone we want. You have no business poking your beak into ours.”

“You’ve made a spectacle of yourselves. Where are these pigeons coming from?”

“Don’t know,” shrugged Nekk.

“Think carefully.”

“Or what? You’ll go back on your word? Maybe clip my wings?”

The casualness of Nekk’s tone was so galling the Teba suffered a momentary loss of control. His wing shot out across the counter and grabbed Nekk roughly by his top.

“Teba!” gasped Laissa, grasping him by the wing.

“Goddess fuck!” shouted Huck.

Realizing his lapse, Teba roughly let go of the bunched fabric and stepped back from the counter, Nekk rubbing at his chest in shock.

“Get the hell out of my shop,” said Nekk in a dangerous tone.

“Nekk...” said Laissa in a conciliatory tone.

“You too, girl warrior. I’ve had enough of you to last a bloody lifetime.”

“She’s First Warrior, and you’d be wise to respect that,” Teba warned Nekk, but he left the shop, Laissa walking quickly out to the boardwalk ahead of him.

The followed the boardwalk back up toward Teba’s roost with much less vigour than they as come down it with, Teba’s wings still shaking from the confrontation.

“Thanks for...defending my name,” said Laissa at length.

“You were granted the role because of the trust your fellow warriors place in you. That you’re a woman should play no part in how you are regarded as a warrior.”

“Nekk’s a bitter old man. I place no stock in what he says, but I am grateful nonetheless...perhaps you shouldn’t have grabbed him though.”

“I know,” said Teba darkly. He had not suffered such a loss of control since the spring when he had cracked Mazli’s beak. He doubted that he could smooth his indiscretion with Nekk so easily as he had with Mazli. This was likely to only reinforce the ugliness on the promenade, Teba lamented. Certainly, if Nekk was behind any of the harassment, he had only gained yet another reason to oppose Teba.


	7. Island Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mimo, Kass and Harth begin recruitment of warriors-to-be and encounter some unexpected hostility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [acacias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acacias) for betaing this chapter and helping me brainstorm a new kind of bow :)

**Mimo**

As the weeks passed, Mimo knew that the Rito Village was likely dusted with the earliest winter snow, but the heat of the islands was a constant. He was uncomfortable all hours of the day and well into the night in the humidity of the jungle, but as he strolled with Harth and Soni near the beach to recruit from the populations of seabirds, the sea breeze came as a relief.

Until he began recruiting, Mimo had only seen the shacks that stood back from the tide line from a distance. Up close, the crowded living conditions and exhausted fisherfolk left him feeling conflicted. He knew they weren’t meant to interfere in anyone’s way of life— to Mimo’s chagrin, Teba had particularly centred him out to remind him to behave himself—but Mimo couldn’t help but feel badly for the Rito born into this nearly inescapable existence.

As the weeks wore on, Mimo came to see the recruitment as an alternative to fishing for the inhabitants. At the very least, they could move on to Hyrule in safety. He spent his days signing up adolescent Rito and teaching them the very basics of archery with the few bows Harth had managed to craft from the abundant bamboo on the island. 

For his part, Harth was kept busy nearly everyday in a small workshop where Soni had managed to secure him some space. It sat on the beach a short distance from the settlement, not far from where the jungle treeline began. Harth had begun to teach his craft to a few of the local woodworkers in hopes that they would produce enough of the new style of bow he had created for the island archers.

“I’ve perfected the design,” Harth explained as he handed Mimo a newer version of unstrung bow. “I call it the tanager bow.” 

“It’s light,” Mimo said in surprise, having only used his own swallow bow during sessions.

It was a simple recurve bow, slightly longer than a falcon bow, but significantly lighter. It had no sight, and the grip was wrapped with a fibrous material. It lacked the distinctive colours of the bows which Harth usually produced, but Mimo found he rather liked the simplicity of it.

“Try it out,” Harth urged.

Mimo strung the bow and found the draw to be much easier than even that of a swallow bow.

“How many do you have?” Mimo asked as he returned it.

“Only about ten usable ones.”

“Well that’s hardly going to do us.”

“We’re not arming for war, Mimo,” Harth said flatly.

“There you are,” said Soni, a smile in her voice that Mimo knew was for Harth.

“Just showing Mimo the newest version,” said Harth, and Mimo swore he could hear some of the same warmth in Harth’s voice, though he stood cautiously back with Mimo.

“You should stay here a while, Harth,” she suggested. “You could teach your craft to others.”

“I have a daughter I must return to.”

Sensing this conversation was quickly going south, Mimo stepped out of the open workshop onto the darkening beach where Soni had set a fire below the tide line. He sat down on a worn trunk of driftwood, half-buried in the sand and turned the fish that Soni had left roasting on sharpened sticks driven into the sand.

Eventually, Soni joined him, her expression somewhat tighter than when she had met them at the workshop. Mimo silently offered her a crispy-skinned fish, still on the stick. She took it without enthusiasm and said nothing as she set to picking away at it.

“Why is this place so divided?” Mimo asked.

“A lot of reasons,” she said. “When the seabirds first settled here, it was almost entirely just us. A few Akkala and Northern Rito who either died out or were absorbed into our tribes. The Tropical Rito came later. They were used to building in the jungles while we had lived on the seaside. They had better land, better hunters...and in exchange for their protection, we fished the seas and laboured on their buildings.”

“You’re so many more than they are. You could easily change the balance of power.”

“We tried...those who were held responsible for the uprising were tied and thrown into the mouth of the volcano.”

“I-I thought it was inactive,” said Mimo, horrified.

“It’s a long drop...and highly symbolic.”

“But you work with them!”

“It’s better than starving,” she said darkly as she tore a bit of blackened skin from her fish.

“Mimo!” 

Mimo turned to find Kass walking along the beach toward them.

“We didn’t make you any fish,” said Mimo as Kass motioned for him to budge over so he could share the driftwood log.

“I’ve already eaten...Tosk insisted that I eat with some of the members of the council.”

“That does sound like Tosk,” Soni agreed.

“Are we talking about Tosk?” Harth asked as he settled in the sand—nearer to Kass than to Soni—and took his fish.

“When are you coming back to our accommodations?” Kass asked them.

“I actually like sleeping in the workshop,” Mimo said. “It’s cooler here.”

“Why, you lonely?” Harth asked, his beak full of fish.

“Perhaps I grew worried,” Kass said.

“Such a mother hen,” Mimo scoffed.

“As though you know what that is,” Harth said under his breath.

“Harth,” sighed Kass.

“No it’s alright, Kass,” said Mimo acidly. “I knew good old Harth was lurking somewhere beneath that tragic exterior.”

“You know, you never even try to get along with anyone,” Harth responded from across the fire.

“At least I don’t pretend not to be a gaping vent!”

“Harth, Mimo,” said Soni.

“You’re a coward,” Harth told him.

“ _I’m_ a coward? You have no idea the situations I’ve had to face, and I didn’t have _Teba_ to swoop in and rescue me—”

“Enough you two!” said Kass, raising his voice uncharacteristically. 

Mimo followed Kass’s sight line to the village. In the twilight, he could see dozens of flames flickering in the wind. As his eyes adjusted, he realized that they were held by seabirds coming toward them.

“This doesn’t look good,” Harth muttered as he got to his feet.

Beside him, Kass and Soni had also risen and Mimo followed suit. The crowd descended upon them, surprisingly placid for their torches.

“You will not take our children to fight in your icy world,” said one middle-aged fisher.

“We’re not taking them to fight,” said Kass, “only to learn how to defend your colonies.”

The fisher spat at their feet and Mimo took a step back.

“Don’t speak to us you tropical bastard. None of those colourful fools is sending their children to fight their own wars.”

“Toz,” said Soni, her tone conciliatory, “the skills your children will learn will help us to settle in Hyrule. There’s nothing that will bind us to the Tropical Rito there if we don’t wish to be.”

“And we don’t have wars,” Harth pointed out. “There are scarcely enough who remain on the continent to war against.”

“You want to know what we think of you, bowmaker?” called one woman in the crowd as she held her torch up to the reeds which thatched the roof of the workshop.

Mimo caught the stony look on Harth’s face as he watched his work go up in flames, the dry reeds quickly spreading the fire. His hands curled into fists as the firelight flickered in his eyes.

“Do you want to be oppressed forever?” Soni shouted at the crowd. “If the Tropical Rito want to leave us here they will. And if we don’t know how to fight or hunt, we will never survive in Hyrule.”

“No one wants to go to Hyrule! We want our island to ourselves!”

“There is nothing left here for us!” Soni shouted back.

The placidity of the crowd began to wear away at first with a murmur, then violence broke out. Mimo drew his bow, in the surge of bodies he didn’t quite see what had happened, but he covered Harth as he scooped up Soni in his wings and made for the jungle. Mimo and Kass quickly followed, and lost the crowd as they began to weave through the verdant undergrowth.

When they finally stopped, Harth settled Soni back against a tree trunk as they all stopped to catch their breath. Soni pressed her wing over her bleeding forehead and sat back against the ridged bark. Harth knelt in front of her, his expression one of concern.

“The recruits seemed excited,” Mimo said in disbelief. “They were so eager to go.”

“Not everyone likes change,” said Soni.

“The council seems to believe that the fisherfolk would rather depose them and rot away on this island than risk returning to Hyrule,” Kass told them.

“The seabirds are superstitious,” said Soni. “Their tales of Hyrule are of a land perpetually on fire, overrun with monsters and glowing creatures with many legs.”

“Guardians,” said Kass.

“They fear to return to such a world.”

“You call them...‘them’,” said Mimo. “Do you not consider yourself one of them?”

“Mimo—” cautioned Kass.

“It’s alright,” said Soni. “I was raised on the boardwalks. My mother served one of the former councillors, and—alongside her children—I learned to read. I grew up with an advantage that most seabirds couldn’t dream of. They don’t really see me as one of them.”

“We should return to our lodgings,” said Kass. “Teba won’t be well pleased with us if we become caught up in a revolution.”

**Harth**

Kass and Mimo had returned to their lodgings, but Harth felt as though he owed it to Soni to see her safely to hers. She insisted she was well enough to walk, and the bleeding from the cut on her forehead had stopped. But she had sat with Harth for two days—the first of which he had been sick every time he attempted food—and he was not ungrateful for the wings that had stroked his back and held his hair when he no longer merely thought he was dying, but prayed death would hurry.

“Are you certain you’re well?” Harth asked as they arrived at the tiny roost where she lived on her own.

“I’m sure I’ve suffered worse...but if you’re asking to come in?” She raised her pale grey eyebrows.

Harth let out his breath, some incoherent response passing through his beak as he followed Soni into the small roost.

“I apologize for being so forward earlier,” said Soni, as she poured a bit of water into a basin and dampened a cloth.

“Let me,” Harth offered, taking the cloth from her hand.

“Am I to take that to mean that you accept my apology?” Soni asked as he gently worked at the dried blood which matted her pale, grey-flecked feathers.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Harth, I...I’m interested in pursuing something with you.”

“You haven’t exactly been subtle about that.” Harth said flatly.

“You’ve been...”

“What?” asked Harth, lowering the cloth.

“You haven’t rejected my advances. I’m unsure where we stand.”

Harth stared at her, the remnants of dark blood still staining her feathers above her bright blue eyes. Goddess, he was lonely. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Harth sighed.

“I’ve seen you dehydrated and shaking and sick, and none of that changed my impression of you. This isn’t a passing fancy.”

“Are you certain I’m not merely some curiosity from the far north?”

“Not merely,” Soni said as she caught the top of his cuirass and touched the tip of her beak to his.

Harth’s heart thrummed in his chest. The excitement he felt as she drew her beak up along his was quickly drowned in a flood of guilt that broke free when he thought of Antilli. Harth pulled away, his throat constricted and his head echoing with the sound of his pounding heart.

“This was a mistake.”

“What? Why?”

“I have a daughter at home.”

“That doesn’t bother me. I’ve been with lone parents before.”

“Goddess, before you it was only my wife,” Harth finally said, fearing he was about to weep.

“I know your people are...more reserved in their expressions of romantic affection.”

“It’s not that...I lost her in the spring...I haven’t even lived a year without her.”

“Oh,” breathed Soni. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize...”

Harth had thought she would be appalled—he certainly was by the thought of how much he desired those pale wings around him.

“I’m sure we’ll see one another tomorrow,” Harth said, putting an end to their innocent dalliance.

“Almost certainly,” she agreed.

“Goodnight.”

Harth stepped out onto the boardwalk and followed the paths of bridges and landings back to their accommodations. It was hard to say what Antilli might think of him now. Realistically, he knew she wouldn’t wish him to live out his life in loneliness—he wouldn’t have wished that for her. Well, as he was now, he wouldn’t wish a life of widow or widowerhood upon anyone, though he certainly had worried about who Antilli might have moved on with if he had ever fallen in battle. But he had been so young then, and so very jealous.

“Harth.”

Hearing Kass’s voice, he realized he had been standing in front of their cabana, lost in his misery. He shook his head a little as he entered their accommodations, the air just as heavy inside as it was on the boardwalk. Ignoring Kass’s eyes upon him, Harth worked at the straps of his cuirass, noticing how the dampness of the air had already begun to degrade the leather during their stay.

“Didn’t think you’d make it back,” Mimo said from where he lounged in the highest hammock, one leg hanging over the edge, swaying gently.

“Why is that?” Harth asked testily, hanging his cuirass to dry, though he knew it wouldn’t.

Mimo lifted his head a little and cast Harth a smug glance. It took all or Harth’s self-control not to leap into his hammock and crack his beak.

“Enough,” Kass sighed as he settled into his hammock. “We’re going to have to meet with the council tomorrow and find out if we can still return to Hyrule with the recruits.”

Harth extinguished the lantern on the side table—though the cabana was never completely dark with the lights from the torches always flickering along the boardwalks—and settled into his hammock to stare at the conical ceiling. 

He had been sleeping better recently, even in this goddess-forsaken jungle, but he never went a day without thinking of his loss. It didn’t hurt as it had only a season ago—though perhaps he’d just grown used to the hollow ache in his chest. But the exchange with Soni had reawakened something of that terrible pain, now twisted with guilt. 

In the first few moons since Antilli’s death it had been the sudden lack of her presence, the feel of her body next to his, that Harth noticed most. That pain had subsided for the most part, but tonight he wished so desperately for those dark red wings to wrap around him once more, for her to tell him that everything would be alright...to tell him the right thing to do.

Turning his back to Kass and Mimo, Harth closed his eyes and wrapped his wings around himself, smoothing the feathers on the back of his own wing just as she used to.

\---

Soni had not brought up anything that had transpired the night of the fire, and Harth was happy to leave it that way. Days later, when they returned to the settlements along the beach, they were met with a strange mix of hostility and indifference. Harth walked along the piers with Soni, continuing their original recruitment tactics, but parents shielded their adolescent children, and few even bothered to speak to the pair. The final straw for Harth was when one woman flung a pail of fish guts in their direction and Harth caught the brunt of it. 

As the day neared its end, Soni and Harth retreated to the site of the shell of the workshop on the edge of the settlement. Above them, the sky grew pink and orange, the rays glancing off of the rippling sea and the casting distant clouds as bruises on the glowing horizon. As Harth shook the rancid guts from his cuirass, Soni picked through the ash and blackened sands of what remained of the workshop.

“Harth,” said Soni, pointing out toward the settlement as she rose and dusted the grit from her wings.

A dozen youth of white, grey, and steely-blue plumage walked along the beach toward them and came to stand alongside the destruction. Harth immediately recognized them from the trials that had been cancelled with the destruction of their equipment.

“Do your parents realize you’re here?” he asked them.

“We’re nearly grown, old enough to choose our own fates,” said one, her cobalt-flecked wings folded defiantly. “It’s not for my parents to choose my life for me. I want to seek my honour as you have, not to sew fishing nets.”

“Is this how all of you feel?” asked Soni.

They nodded.

“We can’t live our lives here,” said another. “There’s nothing left on this island for our future.”

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow. Be ready at sunrise, at the central landing,” Harth told them.

They agreed and scattered back to the settlement before they could be missed. Harth turned to go back to his excavating, but something about the way that Soni regarded him made him take pause.

“What?”

“You took a great risk,” she said. “I can’t imagine that you will inspire peace between our people with such brazen actions.”

“There’s no good solution,” Harth sighed. “Among my people we used to believe in the freedom for each Rito to make their own choices with the knowledge that their choice could impact the rest of the tribe. It’s been a long time since we acted in those beliefs, but it’s what Teba hoped we might return to...”

“A noble sentiment, but it might still land us in trouble,” Soni pointed out.

“I’m no diplomat,” sighed Harth as he returned to digging through the ash. “I wasn’t even supposed to be on the goddess-forsaken island.”

“Harth.”

There was that tone again, and Harth realized she wanted to talk. How could he explain that no matter how much he longed for companionship he didn’t yet have place for her in his life? As he glanced up at her, he saw a smear of ash from her beak to her ivory feathers.

“Don’t touch your face,” he said. “You’ve got soot on your beak.”

“Don’t touch my face like this?” she asked, her eyes gleaming playfully as she added a streak to her other cheek.

Harth stood once more and he wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or amused. He knew that the Rito here were not so strict as those in his village, that perhaps he might not be bound to anything more permanent than a moment where he might forget the yawning chasm of loneliness that seemed ready to swallow him.

“What do you want from me?” Harth finally asked.

“Nothing,” Soni said, reaching out for his wing. “It’s just...”

“What?”

“I’m not going back to Rito Village—not this time at any rate.”

“I thought you wanted to see the winter.”

“I think I should stay...keep up the recruitment. My people have been dealt a raw deal far too long, and if we have to become warriors to break free...”

“So you are a revolutionary,” said Harth, squeezing her hand a little. Teba would be angry as hell to find out that the Flight Range was not being used as intended, but having spent nearly three moons on the island, Harth was willing to see this through.

“Promise not to give me away?”

“I won’t tell a soul,” he promised.

“I just...I had hoped maybe...we might say goodbye,” she said, one wing still in his hand, the other reaching up to touch the feathers which poked out above his clothes.

“Is this...what you want?” he asked over the buzzing in his head.

“Yes,” she breathed, her other wing trailing gently down his cuirass to rest on the fastening.

“This can’t be permanent.” 

“I don’t want permanent.”

In the battle between his body and his mind, that horrible ache of loneliness and guilt twisted inseparably as Soni’s beak met his.

**Kass**

In the days since the chaos on the beach, Kass had noticed a growing unrest among the island dwellers and had pushed ahead their departure, worried that he, Harth and Mimo might be caught between the seabirds and Tropical Rito. He awoke and roused Mimo well before sunrise to make the final preparations for their journey, but was surprised to find Harth’s hammock empty.

“Maybe he’ll want to stay,” shrugged Mimo.

“I doubt that.”

“His things are still a mess,” Mimo said, gesturing to the pack which sat on the floor.

“Do you think he could have gotten into trouble?”

“Who, Harth?” Mimo drawled.

Kass sighed and set out to fill the waterskins from a spring which the islanders had harnessed into an aqueduct of connected bamboo hulls. As he corked the last skin, Kass felt the feathers on the back of his neck raise, and quickly turned to see he was being watched from the next landing. It was with a jolt that he realized the old Rito who stood watching was none other than Tyth.

There was no way back to the cabana save by the landing where Tyth stood, so Kass clenched his beak and carried the water in one wing as he set out across the bridge, preparing himself—for what, he was unsure. He tried not to look at Tyth, but the elder Rito never broke his gaze, and Kass found himself compelled to stare back as Tyth slowly approached.

“Why have you avoided me?” Tyth asked bluntly as Kass reached the landing.

“I haven’t,” Kass lied. “I’ve come here as the voice of my village, and I’ve been kept busy.”

“Your village,” scoffed Tyth. “Your people are here, Kass. You think those northerners cared at all of our plight?”

“They didn’t know. How could they? They thought they were alone in this world, as we did.”

Kass turned to leave, uncomfortable with the appraising look that Tyth cast him. The pity in those pale-brown eyes was too much for Kass to bear.

“Do you really have no memory of me?” Tyth called, a pleading note in his voice.

“Why should I have any memory of you?” Kass asked harshly as he turned back to the old Rito.

Tyth’s expression wavered for a moment, an unmistakable sadness in the quiver of his beak, and Kass steeled himself for whatever might come next.

“You’re my brother’s son.”

Nothing could have prepared Kass for such a statement and he felt tears prick his eyes as he grit his beak against the hot anger he had not felt in so many years. He had had family in the world, and he had been left to die by him.

“I know that Rito do not count such a relationship as kin,” Kass said harshly, his tears threatening to spill over, “but I was raised among people who would call you my uncle.”

“A Hylian term.”

“More than just Hylians...and I lived...I cried for help and you left me. How many others survived the slaughter only to die alone I wonder?” Kass ranted, his voice growing rough as his vision blurred. “I would rather you not speak to me. I have no memory of you, and no longing for family of such brutality.”

“Kass...I lost my daughters, my wife, my brothers! You are all that remains to me in this world!”

“Forget me,” Kass hissed. “I shall do my very best to forget you as well.”

Kass fled down the next swinging bridge as he made for their accommodations, wiping fiercely at his eyes and praying Mimo would not needle him. When he returned to the cabana, Harth was to be found kneeling over his pack and feverishly stuffing his supplies inside.

“Where were you?” Kass demanded.

Harth sighed and glanced back at Kass, halting whatever acerbic comment had leapt to his tongue when he saw Kass’s expression.

“Are you alright?” Harth asked.

“We were ready to leave you behind,” Kass told him harshly as he shoved a waterskin into his wings. Kass found he wasn’t prepared to recall the interaction with Tyth even to himself, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach making him want to flee.

“Well. I’m ready!” Mimo told them irately.

“So am I,” said Harth, pulling on his pack,

“Then let’s go,” said Kass as he handed Mimo his waterskin and pulled on his own pack.

It was still dark as they took the swaying bridge to the landing, the sputtering torches along the walks lighting their way. Beyond those spheres of light, the dark heat of the jungle pressed in upon them, the strange quiet of still air and the buzzing of insects filling Kass’s head. When they reached the landing, Soni and Hossa stood quietly with a dozen young recruits, each standing ready to leave, a few of them with the remaining tanager bows strapped to their backs.

“Where’s Tosk?” Kass asked.

“Do you really want him here?” asked Hossa.

“Seems impolite to set out without occasion,” Kass pointed out.

“I thought that was the point of such an early departure,” said Soni pointedly.

“In that case, I’m ready to go. Recruits,” Mimo called to the youths as he took to the sky. They followed after him in a flurry of monochromatic feathers, Hossa’s green and blue wings standing out even in the dark as he joined them.

“Harth,” Kass heard Soni say, and turned in time to see Harth brush his beak against hers.

“Am I to take this to mean you aren’t joining us?” Kass pressed.

“Not this time,” she said.

“Then farewell,” Kass bid her just before he followed the recruits. He heard Harth follow close behind. He felt that tingle on the back of his neck once more, and—though he knew Tyth could not possibly see him through the abundant foliage—Kass refused to look back, afraid that somehow he would not escape if he saw Tyth’s eyes upon him.

**Harth**

The near silence of the flight brought little comfort to Harth’s troubled mind. The rushing of the wind and the crashing of the sea served only as a backdrop to the memory of what he had done the night before—the sweet moment of elation, followed by immediate regret as he and Soni lay sticky, wrapped in each other’s wings. If Kass suspected, he said nothing, but Harth had allowed himself to remain at the back of the flock while Mimo led them on in hopes of avoiding any uncomfortable questions.

Though it had been dark and relatively cool when they had left the islands, the sky was cloudless as the sun rose high above them, scorching Harth’s feathers. Between his sleepless night and the unrelenting shimmer of light bouncing off the ripples of water beneath him, by midday Harth was once more falling victim to the heat. With no place to land in sight, he kept this to himself until mid afternoon when they landed once more on Eventide.

While the rest of the group sat by the shrine and broke for a meal, Harth visited the pool in the skerry. Leaving his pack, weapons and clothes on the sun-warmed stone, he waded in and sat down on the submerged rocks, letting the cool water lap about his shoulders. Perhaps the salty sea might wash away his sins with its undulating motions.

He thought of Molli, and hoped that she was happy with Teba and Saki and not missing him as terribly as he missed her. The thought of his daughter only made his heart ache more. How could he have moved on from Antilli—his child’s mother—so quickly?

Harth shielded his eyes from the unsteady horizon, and did not look up when he heard wings behind him—he was certain only Kass would seek him out. Normally, the thought of Kass finding him in such a state would have bothered him immensely, but he found himself craving company.

“Are you ill?” came Kass’s serious voice.

“I’m not sure,” Harth said honestly, still not looking up as he heard Kass settle by the edge of the pool behind him. “Though I couldn’t say if it’s the heat that’s affecting me...or my heart.”

“Soni.”

“How could I have done that?” Harth said hoarsely. “It hasn’t yet been a year...”

“Oh Harth,” Kass sighed gently. “You needn’t resign yourself to live your life alone.”

“How could you understand this?” Harth knew this was petulant, even in this sorry state, though perhaps Kass understood something of the guilt that gnawed away in his chest. Rather than a fight, Harth felt an understanding wing resting upon his back.

“I’ve suggested we stay on the island for the night,” Kass told him as he squeezed his shoulder. “It won’t do if you get sick in Lurelin. Take what time you need here.”

Between his own strangling guilt and Kass’s unbearable kindness, Harth could barely restrain the sob that tore at the back of his throat.

“What have I done?” Harth asked in a harsh whisper, pressing his wings to his eyes. Kass said nothing, his wing still moving comfortingly on Harth’s shoulder as his tears broke through and rolled from his feathers into the sea.


	8. The Weight of Expectation

**Teba**

“Genli, look where you want to aim,” Teba called to the fledgling, but his voice sounded hollow and worn in his ears.

“Teba, I am!” Genli shouted, her temper flaring.

“Genli!” called Amali sternly. “Don’t speak to Teba like that or he’ll have you fly laps!”

In spite of Amali’s threats, Teba had little interest in punishing Genli. From the Flight Range landing, he glanced down to where Amali and Saki stood together by the edge of the range, supervising Molli as she hovered out over basin, the wind whipping at her little scarf. As he watched Amali and Saki together, contentedly helping Molli improve her flight, Teba felt Harth’s absence sharply.

Teba tried to tell himself that it was the pressure of leading the village getting to him. Perhaps it was the late nights Molli had kept them up recently, crying that she missed her father and fearing he had somehow gone to the same place as her mother. When Saki couldn’t calm her, Teba had taken Molli in his wings and walked up and down the boardwalk in front of their roost as he had seen Harth do nearly every night in the summer. Even as he assured her that Harth was soon to return, Teba wondered if something had befallen his friend—the delegation had been away such a long time.

Presently, Genli hurled her little bow at the target in a fit of childish frustration. It bounced down the side of the pillar as it fell down into the water below. Beside him, Teba heard Tulin’s sharp gasp—his son already knew such behaviour was unbecoming of a warrior.

“Genli!” Teba hollered. “You’re off the range. Go sit in the lodge and cool off.”

Genli fumed, but did as she was told and Teba took flight, spiralling down into the basin to retrieve the bow which floated in the icy waters below. Had he or Harth done such a thing, their instructor Gotheli would have made them collect it themselves, but that was before the warriors had fallen to such ruin. It was yet another failure for which he bore some blame.

When he returned to the landing with the little bow, he was surprised to find Kass. His children scrambling for his attention, Kass crouched to wrap them in his wings and comb his beak over their crests. Hearing Teba’s talons on wood, Kass looked up and stood.

“You’re back,” said Teba, surprised by the note of gratefulness in in voice.

“We’ve settled the new recruits at the Swallow’s Roost...I doubt Cecili will be happy to have them taking up space meant for Hylian visitors,” said Kass. “Though I doubt she’s likely to have many in this weather.”

“Good,” said Teba. It was all he could manage in he relief to see that Kass had returned. Teba had wanted to ask Kass’s guidance on so many things, but in the moment of his sudden appearance they dried up in his throat and he could not remember what he had meant to ask. 

Instead, lesson disrupted, Teba left Kass to his children, and glided down to where Harth cradled Molli in his wings. Teba was grateful that he would not endure another sleepless night on Molli’s account. Though delighted to once again hold his child, Teba observed something different about Harth’s stance.

“Harth, did they not feed you?” Saki chided as Molli scrambled up onto his shoulders. As Saki pointed it out, Teba noticed that Harth did look a little thinner beneath his cuirass.

“It was the heat,” Harth complained. “I couldn’t bear it. I can’t make that journey a second time.”

“Nor should you,” agreed Saki as Tulin landed in the snow beside her.

Teba glanced back to the lodge where Amali had joined the rest of her family. As she brushed her beak to Kass’s, Teba could only imagine the warmth of their home now that their family was reunited. Harth’s roost had been shuttered with heavy curtains since the snow began, and Teba hesitated to send Harth and Molli back to that cold emptiness.

“Join us for our evening meal,” Teba told Harth.

“Surely you want time on your own...”

“We’ve missed you,” Saki said, grasping Harth’s wing fondly.

Wing still in Saki’s, Harth glanced between them for a moment before he nodded.

“It looks as though your lessons have ended for the day,” Saki pointed out to Teba.

“Just as well,” Teba muttered. He was entirely ready to return to their roost, though he knew he needed to make an appearance at the inn before long. As he glanced over at Harth still holding his daughter, he realized he would probably have to go on his own. “I’ll join you both at home,” he told Harth and Saki as he leapt into the updraft.

Teba landed at the foot of the village. As he took the stairs up to the Swallow’s Roost, he could hear the chatter of the new novices. He took the bridge to the inn, prepared to introduce himself, but stopped short as he entered the full inn. Cecili and Verla had been warned of the impending visit, but even with their preparations, they still scrambled to ensure their guests were accommodated.

Mimo stood in the centre of the room with a dove-grey seabird who shouted orders to the younger recruits. She had a scar on her cheek where her feathers didn’t sit quite smoothly, and an imposing demeanour, though it appeared to Teba that she had only recently grown into her feathers. Seeing Teba, Mimo left her side to speak to him.

“Am I to assume none of the delegates has come back?” Teba asked.

“Hossa’s around somewhere. This is Keci,” said Mimo gesturing to the Rito with the scar.

Teba nodded and glanced around at the new recruits settling in, surprised that not one among them appeared to be Tropical.

“Soni had intended to return,” Teba said casually.

“Yeah, well I think she may have stayed behind because of Harth.”

“Because of Harth?” Teba pressed.

By his expression, Mimo appeared to be caught between his fear of having said something he shouldn’t have and his fear of Teba. Coward, as always, he broke down under Teba’s stare. “I think Harth spent the night with her,” he said, no note of shame in his voice as he once again preserved himself at the cost of someone else.

“Hm,” Teba rumbled. He couldn’t imagine that Harth was in any position to open himself to another person right now, though it had been moons since they had really spoken with one another. Teba tried to ignore the ache that grew in his chest when he searched his memory for last time they had not fought over his role as Elder.

“Teba, maybe tomorrow would be better,” Mimo hazarded. “The recruits are tired.”

Teba nodded. In light of this his new discovery, he would much rather see how Harth was handling himself. Without another word, Teba took the narrow bridge to boardwalk, the soft dusting of snow on the boards tracked through with talon-prints.

By the time he had returned to the highest tier, the sky was grey and dark in the early winter nightfall. Inside his roost, the lanterns were lit, and a warm glow fell upon Harth where he sat back against the railing. Molli sat in his lap holding onto both of his wings as Tulin regaled them both with tales of his imaginary exploits.

“...but even if you fought a lynel,” Tulin rambled, “you’d have to watch out for the fire-breath.”

“Lynels are a serious matter, son,” Teba said as he entered the roost. “Even in a game of pretend they should not be trifled with.”

“I know, Dad.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” grumbled Tulin. “That’s how your father was lost.”

Teba froze. He had never told Tulin this, not wanting to frighten him. From his seat against the railing, Harth looked equally dismayed that Tulin knew of this.

“Wh...who told you of this, Tulin?”

“Kaneli. He said my grandfather was very brave and I’ll be a brave warrior just as the men of my line have been back to the age of Revali.”

“I see.”

Saki returned at that moment, a platter of fish and fried mushrooms in her hands. Teba stared at the food, his appetite suddenly lost, then glanced in the direction of Kaneli’s roost. As she watched him, Saki’s smile decayed.

“Where are you going?” Saki asked as Teba strode by her.

“Teba, don’t,” Harth protested, setting Molli on the ground and following after him.

“This isn’t your concern,” Teba snapped, pulling his wing from Harth’s grip as his friend tried to stop him.

“Goddess, the day that I’m the reasonable one,” Harth lamented, not quite under his breath as he turned back to Teba’s roost.

Teba ignored the anger that flared in his chest and proceeded to push into Kaneli’s roost uninvited. He had not set foot here since he had taken over as Elder—had barely spoken to his former mentor at all. Kaneli sat in his rocking chair, reading by lantern light. He glanced up at Teba, one feathery brow lifted, though Teba though he looked more amused than surprised.

“Teba. Would you like to sit down?” Kaneli asked calmly.

“What have you been telling my son?” Teba spat, closing the distance between them.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Of my...of _Tukoh_?”

“You’ve told him nothing of your father,” said Kaneli closing his book.

“He shouldn’t live in the fear that I did! The wild expectations you had for me!”

“I only ever did what your father would have wanted.”

“You used me as a replacement to fill the void he left in his passing!” Teba shouted.

“I lost the nearest thing I have ever had to a child the day you lost your father,” Kaneli told him, his brow furrowing in real anger for the first time Teba could remember. “The last thing he asked of me was to oversee your training, to give you all he would not be able to.”

Teba grit his beak at the sound of Kaneli’s voice, still harsh with old grief. Teba hated that Kaneli could still open this old wound on him whenever it suited his purposes. If he should ever fall, would Kaneli mould Tulin into the same empty shell, unable to touch his memory without flinching?

“You don’t speak to my son,” Teba spat, jabbing a wingtip in Kaneli’s direction. “He’s not your next protégé.”

“I’ve begged you these long years to see to your pain.”

“You’re the cause of my pain!” Teba shouted irrationally as he turned and left.

Saki caught him in front of their roost, and Teba nearly wished it had been Harth. A piece of him still badly wanted to shout and rage, and Saki neither deserved nor would tolerate such behaviour. Instead, Teba huffed and glanced inside their own roost where Harth sat with Molli and Tulin.

“Let’s walk,” said Saki, gently taking his wing. No doubt she had heard some of what had transpired even over the winter wind that whistled through the roosts.

“I don’t want to walk,” Teba grumbled, but he followed his wife down the steps to the landing where Harth’s roost remained dark and shuttered by curtains that breathed in and out with the wind. Seeing the cold stillness of the roost, Teba imagined it would be filled with pine needles and snow. Harth would almost certainly be staying the night with them.

“I don’t know what’s causing your anger,” Saki told him softy. “I suspect the pressures of your role may play some part.”

Teba only grumbled in response, unwilling to be dragged into confessing to those shards of pain that Kaneli had dislodged. He suspected that Saki knew this, as she reached up to caress his cheek.

“You aren’t adrift on your own,” she reminded him, and Teba gratefully pressed his wing over the one that cupped his face.

**Guy**

_“I hereby declare this union annulled.”_

Teba’s voice echoed in Guy’s head long after he had left the Elder’s roost; long after Ce had told him he should not approach the roost they had shared and she would decide when and where he saw Keth; long after his mother derided him for his poor decision-making and begged him to consider what his father would have said. He should have felt free—welcome to do as he wished and love whom he pleased—but he was weighed down the unexpected shame he felt at the dissolution of his union.

“Guy.”

He started at the sound of Mimo’s voice. It was early morning, the cold wind whistling through the roost in the pale grey of pre-dawn. He had barely slept, his dreams filled with accusations of malicious disregard for Ce and Keth. His mother had always told him he was selfish. Perhaps if he’d been as selfish as everyone seemed to think he was, he could have prevented this all before it had begun.

“Guy, the novices are waiting,” Mimo said, giving the hammock a little shove with his wing.

“I think I’d rather jump in the lake,” Guy whispered hoarsely.

“ _Gha_. Not you too,” Mimo complained.

Guy rose and dug at the back of his wing with his beak before he pulled on his cuirass. Across the roost, Gesane’s hammock sat empty, the frayed tassels on the corners blowing gently in in the crisp breeze—another night spent with Ariane in the stable. Gesane had his own problems, Guy conceded. He couldn’t be expected to stay and talk Guy out of his misery when many of their recent conversations had ended with Guy holding Gesane as he panicked. Better that he stay with Ariane for the time being, though Guy sometimes saw Mimo eyeing up the empty hammock.

“ _Guy_ ,” pressed Mimo again, in that perfectly irritating tone he had cultivated over the years—the one that made Guy give in to anything just so that he would would stop. Anyone who claimed that Mimo was any less a sibling to him than Frita was a fool.

“When did you become chief chaperone to the novices?” Guy griped as he pulled on his scarf and shouldered his bow.

“Would you believe Mazli woke me to come rouse your lazy tail-feathers?” said Mimo as they headed up to Revali’s Landing. “Apparently everyone is worried about what to say to you.”

“Well you’ve never suffered such compunction.”

Mimo’s exhaled laugh made Guy want to crack his beak nearly as much as everyone else seemed to want to. He normally had a much higher tolerance for Mimo’s taunting, but today everything in his eye-line seemed to irritate him. For that, he felt ashamed as well.

The novices stood about on the landing, shivering in the cold, though they had bundled up more snugly than Guy had ever seen any Rito do—save Kass. It had been only a few days of training, and Guy had been far too preoccupied with his own woes to bother to learn any of their names. The two delegates stood with them, awaiting Guy.

“Not terribly strict about timing here are you?” noted the grey seabird.

“You’ll have to excuse my lateness,” Guy said, rather more ire in his voice than usual. “Seeing as I am in possession of both the skills and knowledge you require.”

“Have fun,” said Mimo tonelessly, his eyebrows raised at the delegate.

Guy had desperately hoped to avoid yet another day of training the novices on his own. Even Mimo’s irritating company would have been preferable to having to remedy the complete lack of knowledge the novices seemed to possess by himself. When they arrived at the Flight Range, Guy had the novices line up along the basin, and they clumsily strung the old swallow bows Harth had managed to secure for them. He glanced up at the lodge in annoyance to where the green-feathered chaperone knelt near the cooking pot, trying to start the fire. Guy was galled by the nerve that he might settle in so comfortably without invitation.

“Tov, get your bow strung, let’s go!” hollered the seabird over the wind as she rallied the novices. “Guy is waiting on you, don’t waste his time!”

Guy was suddenly ashamed that he hadn’t bothered to learn her name, but it felt far too late to ask. She was grown, but had opted to join the novices in their attempts to learn the basics of aerial combat—which was better than whatever that green one up in the lodge seemed to be doing.

As the daylight turned the cloudy Hebra sky from lead-grey to nearly white, Guy put the novices through their paces—through the rounds that he had seen the fledglings training under Teba execute with more grace than the adolescents before him. While they flew their rounds, Guy perched on the landing to observe them, trying to ignore the delegate who sat quietly by the fire behind him.

Teba arrived in mid-morning as half of the novices sat crowded around the fire and the other half practised unslinging and catching their bows in flight. Guy had learned this very manoeuvre when he stood the same height as his swallow bow, and watching these new novices struggle made him grind his beak in frustration.

“I do think this is an improvement,” said Teba dryly, as he stared impassively out at the novices.

“Teba, I don’t know if I can keep this up,” Guy confessed.

“Training novices is exhausting,” Teba agreed. “I don’t envy your position, but you need to keep it up until the spring.”

“Hey, get your elbow up!” Guy shouted across the range. “No not you! You!”

“Should learn their names,” advised Teba.

“Where’s Laissa?” Guy asked sharply.

“Her egg is hatching.”

“I see.”

“Keci is settling in to her role,” Teba said gesturing up to where she shouted at one of the novices to retrieve their bow from the water below.

“ _Keci_ ,” Guy repeated to himself.

“Take as long as you need here,” Teba said. “The fledglings won’t be training today.”

Guy nodded and Teba took his leave. Poor company though he was, Teba was an improvement on the pretty-faced delegate that remained by the fire, talking with the novices. Guy couldn’t quite place what was so irritating about him.

“How about you pick up a bow?” Guy found himself snapping.

“I have a healing injury,” he said without a hint of ire, showing Guy the raised pink scar on the inside of his wing.

A huff of disgust was all Guy could manage as he turned his attention back to the range. He had had two arrows through his left wing and could still feel the lumps of scarred tissue pulling in flight—it was something he had just grown used to. He uncharitably thought that perhaps the delegate had managed to get away with such things with his good looks.

Guy dismissed the novices late in the afternoon. Keci stayed behind with him to help tidy the lodge, and Guy was grateful Laissa could not see what a mess of things the novices had made, shifting chests of supplies around and leaving everything in disarray.

“Guy,” said Keci, shoving a chest in place with her foot. “I heard a rumour about you.”

“I wouldn’t put much stock in it. The rumour mill in the village can be somewhat overactive,” Guy told her flatly.

“Don’t you want to know what it was?”

“Did you have it from Mazli?”

“Who’s Mazli?”

“What is it you heard?” he sighed.

“That you aren’t as inhibited as the rest of your tribe.”

“I’m sorry?” Guy choked.

“There is...no one here for me.”

“What about...the other...” Guy gestured vaguely at the village.

“Hossa?” she nearly laughed. “He has no interest. What about you?”

“I just...what is it you’re looking for?”

“Nothing permanent, I assure you.”

“Alright,” said Guy as she caught him by the cuirass.

“I’m a little worked up from practice,” she whispered, her beak brushing against his braid.

“I suppose we ought to fix that,” he breathed, pleasantly ticklish as she drew the tip of her beak through his feathers.

Afterwards, as he lay in one of the hammocks with Keci, Guy felt none of his usual elation and all of his usual guilt. Perhaps the lack of sleep had dulled his senses. He hoped that was all it was.

“This was good,” Keci said, bumping her beak casually against his as she slid from the hammock.

“Yeah,” Guy said listlessly.

When she had left Guy lay in the hammock for a while longer before he dressed and extinguished the fire. The interaction had left him hollow, and he wanted nothing more than to return to Gesane’s roost—maybe he would be back from the stable—and share this Goddess-awful emptiness with someone. But he was due to report to Laissa.

By the time Guy set down on Revali’s Landing, the sun had disappeared below the horizon, and the world was aglow with the brightness of moonlight on snow. Lantern lights shimmered warmly in the roosts, and fluffy flakes drifted peacefully from the sky. The trails that had been worn through the snowy boardwalks were once more covered with clinging clumps of damp white. 

In the quiet, Guy trudged down to Laissa and Mazli’s roost. Laissa sat at the back of the roost, a blanket on her lap and bow held loosely in her wings as she stared up to where Mazli slept, their chick nestled in his feathers. Ce had held Keth that first night, Guy recalled, he had been too afraid.

“Congratulations,” Guy whispered.

“His name is Fyrza,” Laissa told him, gesturing for Guy to sit.

“Did Mazli cry?” Guy asked as he settled down beside her.

“A lot,” Laissa huffed with a quiet laugh. “Did you? When Keth was hatched?”

Guy shook his head. He had been in too great a shock, far too young to have entered fatherhood, but Ce had insisted they couldn’t wait. It was well enough for her, Guy supposed, she was older than he.

“Do you want my report?” Guy asked.

“Is it any more detailed than you executed your duty and trained the novices?”

“I hate this, Laissa,” he said, running his beak along the edge of his wing. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“I know,” she said softly, “but someone has to.”

“I just have too much—”

Guy bowed his head and he felt Laissa’s wing upon his shoulder and thought he would weep. He covered his face and blinked hard, the feeling of extended empathy nearly foreign to him after stretching himself to try to catch everyone else. He stood abruptly, this was no time to place his burdens on Laissa.

“Guy, it’s alright,” she told him.

“I shouldn’t do this to you,” protested Guy. “You should go to sleep with your family.”

“Guy,” she said, halting him in the doorway. “Please take care of yourself.”

**Mimo**

“I see you’re still here,” Gesane said dryly.

Mimo started, not expecting Gesane to return to his roost at such an early hour.

“Where do you expect me to be?” Mimo asked as he folded away his hammock for the day. Gesane rarely slept here anyway, though Mimo had not been bold enough to take over his hammock.

“This roost was built for one,” Gesane griped as he collected his feathered edge from a chest beneath his hammock.

“What do you need that for?” Mimo asked as Gesane pulled the blade from its stiff leather sheath and inspected it.

“Perhaps I mean to run you through.”

“Did you just make a joke?”

Gesane’s eyes glinted, one corner of his mouth curled slightly upward, and Mimo swore that was the closest thing to a smile he had seen from Gesane in the last few moons.

“Ariane has been teaching me,” Gesane hesitated, “to ride.”

“A horse?”

“What else?”

“Just...Kass is the only Rito I know who can ride.”

“I find that I don’t have much of a choice,” Gesane said, a note of shame creeping into his voice. It was more vulnerability than Mimo had ever heard from him. It disappeared as quickly as it came when Gesane cleared his throat and asked, “has Guy left?”

“He had morning training with the novices.”

“Ah. I see.”

The silence hung between them for a moment, and Gesane shifted his bow as he slung the blade across his back. Straightening the leather straps across his breast, Gesane turned to face Mimo.

“What do you mean to do now?” Gesane asked.

“At this moment?”

“Am I to expect another lodger in my roost?” Gesane’s voice was flat, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

“Not for long, I assure you,” Mimo told him, though it was mostly to save face. He had no immediate plans, and he had grown surprisingly accustomed to being back among Rito.

Gesane responded to this with a noise somewhere between a huff and a grumble as he left the roost and headed down the boardwalk. Mimo watched after him for a moment before deciding to seek out someone more rational with whom he could speak. As Mimo strode up the boardwalk, he heard the sound of Kass’s accordion and followed it to find the bard perched on the landing near the shrine. The sound was more melancholy than he was used to hearing from Kass, and as he reached a break in the music he lowered his instrument and sighed.

“You alright, Kass?” Mimo asked.

“Oh...Mimo,” said Kass, a bit startled. “Is there something you need of me?”

“No.”

Kass stared at him a moment and Mimo broke beneath his gaze—there were few people who could see through him so well as Kass.

“I’m not certain what I should be doing with myself,” Mimo admitted.

“I hear Laissa is looking for warriors to fill the ranks,” said Kass.

“We both know I’d make a poor warrior.”

“Hm,” Kass agreed.

“The only thing I’ve ever been able to do on my own was be a messenger,” sighed Mimo. “I suppose I should go back to that.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“I’m restless here,” admitted Mimo. “I feel useless.”

“Teba may yet send you on another mission of diplomacy.”

“I’m no good at that sort of thing.”

“Mimo—”

“It’s alright, Kass,” Mimo said, retreating back across the bridge. “I’ll figure something out.”

Unsettled, Mimo wandered the boardwalk, the smallness of the village suddenly suffocating in spite of its growth—the beginnings of roost to house the newcomers were already under construction. As he saw those same novices returning to Revali’s Landing, Mimo searched their ranks for Guy, hoping perhaps he might have some advice.

“Where’s Guy?” Mimo asked Keci as she landed.

“Flight Range,” she said shortly, and Mimo wondered if whatever had been going on between Keci and Guy had ended with Guy’s usual spectacular failure.

The Flight Range was as good a place as any to speak to Guy, Mimo supposed, so he set out through the biting winds over the lake, blinking hard against the pellet-like snow that rushed down from the mountains in biting gusts. As he set down on the landing, Mimo glanced curiously inside at the sound of voices.

“Mimo,” Hossa greeted him.

“Hossa,” said Mimo, glancing between Guy and the delegate.

“I was just heading out,” Hossa said, cutting past Mimo and leaping into the updraft.

“Something going on with you two?” Mimo teased.

“Doesn’t he wish,” snapped Guy, moodily slamming a chest shut.

“I was thinking...perhaps I ought to go back to being a messenger.”

“Do what you want,” Guy said disinterestedly.

Mimo was taken aback. For all he needled at Guy in vague hopes of provoking some sort of reaction, Guy had never been anything save for endlessly, irritatingly patient. Seeing Guy in such a short temper left Mimo unbalanced.

“Right,” said Mimo. “So I suppose I’ll leave tonight.”

“Fine.”

“Guy...”

“I can’t—” Guy said haltingly. “Whatever you want from me, I can’t. I’m spread too thin right now.”

“I’ll say goodbye then,” Mimo said, his temper flaring.

“Mimo,” sighed Guy catching his wing.

Mimo yanked his wing back, unexpectedly hurt by Guy’s dismissive tone. For all he had thought that he wanted Guy to cease his endless kindness, he found he couldn’t bear it.

“You can come back,” Guy reminded him, though it sounded more out of habit than a sincere offer.

“Everyone says that,” said Mimo, his voice quivering shamefully. “But I can’t. There’s nothing for me here.”

“Stay a little longer.”

“No. I’m sleeping at the stable tonight and setting out in the morning. I’ve had enough of this.”

With that, Mimo left Guy standing in the lodge as he leapt out into the updraft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter digs into a little of the character history (specifically Teba's) that I've put into _The Chronicler_. I'm working on having sort of a combined emotional payout between the two, but I still don't think it is strictly necessary to read both.
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	9. Recklessness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attack on the stable places the warriors on high-alert.

**Gesane**

Half-asleep, Gesane could feel Ariane’s hand trailing beneath the stable-bed covers, through the down from his breast to his stomach to...he opened his eyes, now fully awake at her touch.

“Not too tired then?” she whispered, nuzzling his neck in a nearly Rito-esque manner, the tip of her pert nose tickling between his feathers.

“Too...moulting,” said Gesane as he rolled onto his back and dug at a few loose coverts with his beak.

“You are that,” agreed Ariane as she shook the loose down she had collected from her fingers.

Outside it was still dark, and Gesane was not entirely sure whether it was nearer to dusk or to dawn. He shifted again, unfurling pinfeathers and patches of bare skin rubbing uncomfortably against the heavy blankets. He knew there would be more than a few stray feathers left behind in the sheets.

“Did you really wake me for that?” Gesane asked, nudging his beak gently against the tip of her nose.

“Gesane, it’s been a long time.”

“This is not the most comfortable time for me.”

“It’s been longer than that.”

She wasn’t wrong. Gesane had felt drained through much of the winter, his energy sapped in that dark void of flightlessness and shame. The one time he had managed to rouse himself, Mimo had barged into the roost through the closed curtains and had learned more of Hylian anatomy than he had ever bargained for. Gesane was fairly certain that Mimo was still too embarrassed to face Ariane.

Though the spring was underway, Gesane remained largely disappointed, underwhelmed by the few flight feathers that had unfurled on his wings outside of the spring moult. Guy insisted it was still early, and pointed out the bloodfeathers that had begun to regrow in the injured patches.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Gesane whispered as he drew the curve of his beak across Ariane’s cheek.

“You’d better,” she whispered, her fingers once more threaded in his feathers.

“ _Bokoblins!_ ” came Ponthos’s shout from outside of the stable.

Startled to action, Gesane leapt from the bed, pulled his cuirass over his tender new feathers and slung his bow and blade across his back. On the other side of the bed, Ariane yanked on her boots and grabbed her hunting bow and traveller’s sword. Together, they rushed out into the stable-yard, slick and muddy from the spring thaw and refreezing in the chill night. Bokoblins had descended upon the horses. Whinnies and screeches rent the air as Ponthos attempted valiantly to defend them.

Gesane unslung his bow and drew an arrow from his quiver. Aiming carefully and took out one bokoblin with a headshot. He raised his bow for another shot, but Ponthos was too near. Seeing no alternative, Gesane drew his blade and waded into the fray, hacking and slashing with a brutality he had not had to call upon in years. Behind him, Ariane hollered profanities as she engaged one of the smaller bokoblins, a spray of blood marring her tunic as she slashed its throat.

It felt like a life age had passed by the time that Guy and Mazli arrived. Gesane whistled a warning to them, and Guy broke off to chase down the bokoblins that ran through the woods behind the stable. As the arrows fell around him, Gesane continued on his course, splitting one porcine face with the hilt of his feathered edge, and sinking the blade into the soft flesh of the next.

“Gesane!” he heard Ariane shout from behind him.

Too late, he turned and felt the bite of a blade above his elbow. Before he could react, an arrow buried itself in the bokoblin’s breast. Mazli landed in the cold mud between Gesane and the creature and quickly ended the fight with his own blade. Around them, Galli and Ponthos chased down the few wounded bokoblins, stuck with arrows helped them to their end.

“Are you alright?” Ariane asked as she slid a little in the mud by his side. She took Gesane’s wing in her hands to examine the wound. It stung as she pushed back the patchy feathers, but it wasn’t very deep, and bled sluggishly.

“Mazli, you needn’t have interfered,” Gesane said, his voice rising with the heat of conflict.

“We took the same oath,” said Mazli defensively.

As Mazli stepped cautiously back, Gesane inhaled deeply. He was well enough to fight, and he didn’t need Mazli of all people to rescue him from a few rust-coated bokoblins. Mazli stared at him, his stance defensive and his expression pained.

“Gesane,” Ariane whispered.

“I’m appreciative,” Gesane managed to grumble.

Before Mazli could do more than nod in acknowledgement, Guy landed beside them, thawing mud splattering thickly around him.

“Were you injured?” Guy asked, hand on Gesane’s shoulder.

“I’m fine!” Gesane snapped, anger flaring in his chest. He was growing tired of everyone treating him as though he was some fragile thing.

As Gesane’s shout echoed through the open air, the stable staff stared at him from around the yard, Ariane and Mazli stepped back, but it was the unbearable hurt on Guy’s face that made Gesane immediately regret his shortness. Guy nodded sharply and turned to help Ponthos with the mess of bodies around the yard. Mazli cast Gesane a wary glance as he followed Guy.

“Guy...”

“Have your wing seen to,” Guy called without looking back.

“C’mon,” Ariane said, resting her hand low on Gesane’s back as she steered him firmly to the stable. “That blade was filthy.”

Gesane sat on a stool near their bed, aware of the mud that caked his legs and splattered his feathers. As Ariane dabbed at the cut with a spirit-soaked cloth, Gesane prayed that Guy would stop in at the stable so he could apologize.

“I think I should return to my roost tonight,” said Gesane as Ariane wound a linen bandage around the injury. “I can’t clean up here.”

“Seeing as you’ve already made a mess of my bed,” she said darkly.

As Ariane returned the spirits to their place on the shelf, Gesane stripped the bed and shook out her sheets around the side of the stable. He noticed that Laissa had made it to the yard, and Saki had come to barter with Ponthos for her share of bokoblin innards. As he stood watching the scene unfold, Ariane approached and took her sheets back.

“You could come with me,” said Gesane.

“I’m not getting in the middle of whatever is happening between you and Guy,” she told him warily as she stood on her tiptoes to reach his face. 

Gesane leaned down so she could kiss his beak and he nipped affectionately at her ear. 

“Where was that earlier?”

“We would have been called to fight naked,” Gesane pointed out.

“I was going to keep my tunic on anyway,” she shrugged.

Gesane made a dismissive noise.

“Go,” she said, “make your peace.”

Ariane disappeared back into the stable and Gesane signed and set out to find Guy. As Saki unflinchingly began to open bokoblin corpses, seeking increasingly rare ingredients, Gesane approached Laissa.

“Have Guy and Mazli left?” Gesane asked.

“I sent them back to the village.”

Gesane sighed and resigned himself to the long, lonely walk across the bridges. Skovo greeted him with a nod at the first bridge, and Gesane hurried on with half a thought to rinse the mud from his feathers in the pond on the first stack. Seeing the thin sheen of ice that had formed over it, he thought better of it. and pushed his tired body across the next bridge and the next until he reached the village.

By the time Gesane reached his roost, the lanterns were lit, and Guy was to be found scrubbing the mud from his thighs over a basin. He glanced up as Gesane entered the roost, the steam drifting up from the hot water beneath him.

“I didn’t think you’d return tonight,” said Guy.

“I hadn’t meant to.”

Guy said nothing as he offered a dry cloth to Gesane. Most of the mud had dried and flaked off of Gesane’s legs on the walk, but some still remained splashed up his thighs. He dropped the cloth in the bowl and sat down to unbind his filthy leg-wraps.

“You were really reckless,” Guy said at last.

“I was not.”

“Mazli thought you were being reckless. _Mazli_ ,” Guy reiterated.

“And you? You really think I was being reckless?”

“I’ve never seen you wade into a fight with such disregard.”

Gesane didn’t respond. Guy worried about him far too much, and since he had moved in, Guy’s tendency to fret over Gesane had only grown. This wasn’t good for Guy, Gesane knew, yet he seemed helpless to do more than put some physical distance between them.

“Have you made any plans for your own roost?” Gesane asked, wringing out the warm cloth to wipe at those muddy spots on his legs.

“Why are you always trying to send my on my way?” Guy asked, his voice taking on a defensive note. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“Guy...”

“Because the only I’ve ever done is—”

Guy cut himself off, and Gesane froze. Goddess, he hoped Guy wouldn’t say those words.

Guy swallowed hard, his beak opening and closing as he struggled to find himself. “I care for your well-being,” he finally said.

“You don’t have to. I’m well,” Gesane protested.

“Are you though?”

“I am,” Gesane insisted, though he doubted he could fool Guy into believing it when he did not believe it himself.

**Laissa**

After the attack on the stable, Laissa immediately reinstated flyovers as a part of the regular course of guard duties. The incident showed her just how vulnerable they had become without the regular surveillance of the region that previous First Warriors had insisted upon. She had just dispatched Mazli and Guy to survey Hebra West Summat and Biron Snowshelf respectively—with strict instructions not to engage anything in combat—when Teba set down on the Flight Range landing.

“I’m about to set out,” Laissa told him, as she finished taking stock of their supplies. “I didn’t realize you were training the fledglings today.”

“I’m not.”

“Is there something you need of me?”

“No,” he said. “I mean to come with you.”

“I have it in hand, Teba,” she told him a little sharply, adjusting her quiver as she stepped out onto the landing.

“I’m not suggesting you don’t,” he sighed. “I’ve never seen such activity as in your reports.”

“You doubt my word?”

“I wish to see with my own eyes.”

“Suit yourself,” said Laissa as she leapt into the updraft.

For once, they grey sky above them was calm as Laissa and Teba made their way east over Rospro Pass. She could see the usual colonies of mixed groups of monsters huddled around fires in the shelves along the edges of the trail. She hoped that the Hylian climbers who sometimes came this way were aware of the danger.

“Do you not worry?” Teba asked her.

“About what?”

“About you and Mazli both setting out each day?”

“Of course.” Laissa could hardly deny that she worried that Mazli’s mother, Idda, might be left to raise Fyrza if something should befall them, but Laissa always ensured they were assigned to separate flyovers. “Do you not worry for your own son?”

“I do,” said Teba. “But I knew that Saki would be with him if I fell.”

“It seems unlikely that Mazli and I would both fall on a routine flyover.”

Teba said nothing, though his dark eyebrows lowered as he stared down at where the pass branched east. As Laissa followed his gaze, she felt a sense of dread growing in her chest. Between the peaks, knots of monsters roamed from campfire to campfire, ebbing and flowing and flitting about. She had seen the beginnings of this in previous flights, but this particular area seemed to have experienced a sudden population boom.

“This is worse than the last time I passed by here,” Laissa said as they turned back.

“I haven’t seen such activity since I was a novice,” Teba agreed. “If we don’t thin out their population we will find ourselves fighting off more attacks on the stable.”

“But where did they come from?” Laissa breathed. “Do they spawn in the frozen earth and crawl forth in the spring?”

“We’ve been negligent for too long— _I_ have been. I’m sorry that I’ve left the warriors in such disarray.”

“It’s hardly your fault that our population is so small. We haven’t the numbers for the flightgroups of our parents’ time.”

“There are those who were trained as novices, who did not fledge.”

“Raza and Skovo are only a moon’s turn from earning their warriors’ braids,” Laissa pointed out.

“I’m not speaking of Raza and Skovo.”

“Surely you can't mean...Huck, Mimo, Verla...”

“And Bedoli is in the same position. If you need them to fill the ranks...”

“Bedoli can hold her own,” agreed Laissa. “As to the others...”

“I agree, they’re hardly warrior material, but I can instate them to the rank of guard with a word, freeing up the rest of you to deal with the problem at hand.”

Laissa hesitated. Verla was mild-mannered enough, though she couldn’t imagine that he had kept up his skills, and Mimo was a fair archer, if unpredictable in battle. It was Huck that worried Laissa.

“We can defer this decision,” Teba said to her silence. “And if you are worried about resistance from the reinstated guards, you will have my full support in however you see fit to discipline them.”

“I’ll consider the offer,” said Laissa.

The sky was growing dark by the time they set down at the Flight Range, the sun creeping down below the clouds to turn their bellies a bloody pink. Guy had already returned and sat by the cooking pot, sauteing skewers of mushrooms and fowl.

“How did you fare?” Laissa asked as she joined Guy around the fire.

“It was worse than I expected,” he told her grimly as he handed her a skewer. “Structures we burned down long ago have been replaced, colonies dot the land. It’s as though they’re working in cooperation—I’ve never seen such a thing.”

“They’re breeding,” said Teba, accepting the skewer that Guy held out to him.

“I thought we had some control over their numbers,” sighed Guy.

“No one could have predicted this,” said Teba.

“Mazli returned to your roost,” Guy told Laissa as she finished her hot skewer.

Laissa nodded—Mazli would want to relieve his mother of Fyrza. Idda was hardly the grandmotherly sort, and Laissa felt a pang of unexpected grief for her own parents. How they would have loved to have seen her son.

“He saw something...disturbing,” Guy said, glancing seriously between Laissa and Teba.

Teba raised his eyebrows in expectation that Guy would continue.

“There’s a lynel on the other side of the western summat.”

The expression which hollowed Teba’s eyes was one that Laissa had never expected to see. Lynels were rare in the mountains, though she had heard stories of one that breathed fire and had come down to harass the village before she had even hatched. The Chronicle had confirmed her father’s account of the battle, and Laissa imagined it was that which shook Teba to his core.

“Lynels haven’t wandered so far south for decades,” said Teba finally.

“That may account for the monster migration though,” said Laissa.

“Laissa, we need to prepare for a difficult summer,” Teba told her. “The colonies need to be cleared before winter or we may face a famine.”

“I understand,” said Laissa, rising. “Thank you for your report, Guy. Teba.” 

She nodded to both in farewell before she leapt into the updraft and rose high into the gloomy sky. Not wanting to speak to anyone on the boardwalk, Laissa set down on her back landing, her talons scraping on the rough wood. Seeing Mazli’s occupied hammock, she leapt quietly into the roost and stripped off her weapons and armour before she climbed into her hammock.

In the next hammock, Mazli stared up at the rafters, Fyrza asleep on his breast. Laissa reached across to gently caress her son’s pale, wispy down before she rested her wing on Mazli’s.

“I needed to come home and see him,” Mazli whispered, gently touching his beak to Fyrza’s head.

“Guy said you saw a lynel.”

“I had heard they were territorial beasts, but...I was unprepared for the violence.”

“What happened? Were you seen?”

“No, thank the Goddess. They eat other monsters...I had no idea. Did you know that?”

Laissa shook her head. She couldn’t recall ever hearing such distance in Mazli’s usually caustic voice.

“I watched as it caught hold of a bokoblin—I’ve never heard such a squeal—it simply tore it in half,” Mazli whispered as he wrapped his wings more securely around Fyrza. “I don’t know that I can face one.”

“Goddess willing, we’ll never have to,” said Laissa, though Mazli’s fear had reached out to become her own. She would wait for a brighter day to tell him of the fight that they would be up for that summer.

**Guy**

Training had progressed better than Guy had cynically thought it would, but the novices were still moulting terribly—much worse than Guy had ever seen among the Northern Rito—and he and Laissa had opted to give them some time to get through shedding their patches of adolescent down. Perhaps the break was just as well; Laissa needed everyone available for flyovers.

The spring air was damp, and the clouds above threatened rain when Guy returned from a flyover with Mazli. They had set out that morning and taken as many bomb arrows as they could carry to decimate a lizalfos camp near Hebra Falls. The arrows ran out well before they had managed to take out all of the monsters at the camp, and—in the end—they had both opted to return home in one piece than engage in such a hopeless fight so far from home. Where Teba may have once called them cowards, Laissa was relieved that they had made it back, and Guy had to admit that he was grateful to serve under her.

Guy set down on the back landing of Gesane’s roost and hopped down to the floor. He nearly jumped out of his feathers when he saw Ariane sitting in Gesane’s hammock, her legs dangling over the edge.

“I thought you’d be raking or something at this time of day,” Guy said, recovering himself as she leapt to the ground.

“I think Gesane went to the Flight Range on his own,” she told him, not bothering with niceties.

“How?”

“He took a horse. He’s been gone all day.”

“Well he’s probably just working stuff out on his own,” Guy said, though Ariane’s expression suggested that she knew as well as Guy that Gesane might not be in any shape to fly after so long having not.

“Guy.”

“I know,” Guy sighed. “I’m sure he’s fine, but I’ll...see how his training is progressing.”

With that face-saving remark, Guy left the roost and took off from the tiny landing off the boardwalk. Gesane had been reckless lately, Guy thought as the damp chill of the air ruffled at the patchy feathers on this thighs. Gesane’s flight feathers had mostly grown back, but he had not disclosed to Guy whether he had yet attempted flight.

As the freezing air rushed down from the mountains, the Flight Range came into view, and Guy could see a horse hitched to the ladder beneath the lodge. He set down on the landing, his heart in his throat when he could not see Gesane anywhere.

“Gesane!” he called, but the wind swallowed his voice. “Damn it!”

Dreading what he might find, Guy leapt into the basin and drew in his wings as he plummeted down toward the water. He spotted Gesane curled up on the rocks that pushed up from the water, his back against the rock wall. Talons scraping on the icy rocks, Guy landed in front of Gesane and grasped his face in both hands.

“Gesane. Gesane, open your eyes!” Guy pleaded as he felt for a life beat.

Gesane shook his head a little and blinked heavily.

“That’s it, wake up,” Guy encouraged, desperately smoothing the feathers on Gesane’s cheek. “You’re not supposed to fall asleep in the cold like this.”

As Gesane’s eyes opened more fully, Guy exhaled shakily in relief. He took a deep breath to calm himself as Gesane stared at him dully.

“Guy,” he winced.

“I’m right here. Are you injured?”

Gesane glanced down at the wing he held protectively against his body.

“Do you think it’s broken?” Guy asked as he gently probed along the back of the injured wing.

“I think I tore something,” Gesane hissed, and Guy hurriedly withdrew.

“C’mon, stand up,” encouraged Guy, gripping Gesane’s good wing and hauling him to his feet. “We’re not staying down here.”

As Guy pulled Gesane’s injured wing over his his shoulders, Gesane inhaled sharply. As sorry as he was that Gesane was in pain, as Guy recovered from the initial shock of finding his friend succumbing to the cold in his sodden clothes, he felt a flash of anger for Gesane’s carelessness.

“Did that hurt?” Guy asked, not entirely kindly.

“Yes!”

“Good. Get ready, we’re getting out of here.”

Guy held Gesane tightly with one wing and spread his other. Gesane mirrored him with his uninjured wing and together they pushed off into the wind. As they rose in the air, Gesane was unsteady, his wings shook and Guy knew they did not have the strength they once had. Rather than sympathy, this only filled Guy with annoyance for Gesane’s foolishness.

They landed roughly, and Gesane stumbled into the lodge, gripping Guy’s wing hard as he sank shakily next to the cooking pot. As Gesane stripped off his damp clothes, Guy set a fire and pulled a blanket from one of the hammocks to wrap around Gesane’s shoulders.

Guy wanted to shout at him—Gesane had been so rash lately that Guy feared what might happen if he slipped up—but the pained trill Gesane tried to hold back through his chattering beak twisted Guy’s anger to remorse. Gesane held his injured wing close as he shivered away, and Guy sat down beside him.

“Gesane...that was so _stupid_ ,” Guy finally said.

“I know,” Gesane responded flatly, staring into the flickering light of the fire.

“I thought you were dead!” Guy blurted.

“Guy—”

“You should have asked someone—me, Harth, _anyone_ —we would have been here to spot you!” Guy’s voice pitched a little hysterically as he admonished Gesane. He was furious, certainly, but his fear for Gesane’s well-being cut through that.

The silence grew between them as Guy tried to regain some sense of calm. He had to be calm for Gesane, but he was so very tired of being the calm one.

“I didn’t do it to worry you,” said Gesane finally.

“Then what?” Guy begged, his unshatterable façade fully abandoned. “Gesane, make me understand why you keep doing these things because I have lived in fear for you since I returned!”

Gesane stared down at his wings. The flight feathers had nearly grown back, save for a few pin feathers which were a little slow to unfurl, but Gesane’s expression was filled with a pain that looked so very different from the panic which Guy had seen overwhelm him again and again through the harsh winter.

“The arbiters meant for this punishment to serve as a deterrent. To humiliate me so completely...” As he trailed off, Gesane blinked hard, and it took everything Guy had in him not to wrap Gesane in his wings and tell him that everything would be alright. “When Teba clipped my wings before the crowd, I let my anger toward Kaneli and those who had passed the sentence carry me through. I had no idea how it would endure, how it would wear away at me long after I had forgotten the feeling of... _compliance_...”

At that whispered word, Gesane covered his beak, tears sliding down his feathers as he gasped a silent shaking sob. Guy had seen Gesane fight through panic, rage, despondency, but this was something else. While Gesane had cursed those who had done this to him, Guy had watched, thinking perhaps anger was the only reasonable response to such trauma. Perhaps this was finally what he needed, the terrible truth Gesane had to acknowledge before he could move on.

Unable to hold back a moment longer, Guy reached a wing around Gesane’s shoulders and Gesane melted against him, his chest hitching in despair. Guy rested his cheek to Gesane’s head as he wept, holding him as tightly as he could without jostling his wing.

“The humiliation has endured so much longer then I could have ever imagined...I’ve been such a burden to you all,” Gesane managed,

“No,” Guy told him firmly.

“You’ve wasted seasons on me!”

Guy rested his beak on Gesane’s head and held him a little closer, and Gesane settled into the embrace as he had not in years. 

“You’re the only person left in my life who I haven’t stupidly alienated,” Guy told him softly. “You’ve kept me from being alone with my own worst impulses.”

“I thought you were staying for me.”

“Can’t it be both?” Guy attempted to joke, though it felt flat even as he said it.

Gesane nodded as he fought back those quivering breaths. As Guy brushed a tear from Gesane’s feathers he realized too late that in those months he had spent with Gesane, he had let those old feelings grow back.

“And you _are_ getting better,” Guy assured him, but his voice sounded too loud, too stilted. 

“I don’t know if I am.”

“You are,” Guy told him, his wingtip trailing gently along Gesane’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort that Guy knew was far too intimate. “Today has been pretty terrible, but fortunately we have tomorrow. And when your wing heals I’ll be here with you.”

“Because you’re never leaving my roost,” Gesane complained without enthusiasm.

As Gesane rested his head in the dip between Guy’s shoulder and neck, Guy could almost pretend those long years without him had never happened. He shouldn’t be doing this for Gesane, he knew—Gesane didn’t feel the same, and it only made Guy miss what he had lost. Fighting the growing ache in his chest, Guy nuzzled his beak into Gesane’s crest, knowing in his heart of hearts this would be the last time he held Gesane like this.

“Probably not,” Guy agreed hoarsely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally another reworked scene, but Guy has such a different perspective than Gesane, I hope it was still enjoyable.


	10. On Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teba is summoned to the Brazen Beak.

**Teba**

Teba had fully intended never to set foot in the Brazen Beak again, until Huck summoned him there —along with Saki—one clear afternoon in the late spring. He followed Huck begrudgingly down the boardwalk, but only because he was expecting a Zora delegation any day now, and this was no time for chaos in the village.

As they reached the Brazen Beak, Teba saw the telltale grey and white fluff of the heavily moulting novices blowing lazily along the boardwalk in the warm breeze. Inside the shop, Nekk sat on a stool behind the counter, holding a rag to his bleeding beak.

“I wish to register a complaint,” Nekk told Teba, his voice muffled through the cloth.

“Let Saki treat you first.”

Nekk nearly managed to choke back his screech as Saki applied the powder to the bleeding crack on his beak. As he dispassionately watched the interaction, Teba found he couldn’t bring himself to feel much sympathy for the clothier’s plight.

“What happened?” Teba asked Nekk disinterestedly as Saki put away her satchel.

“Your pal Harth is what happened!”

“Harth did this?”

“Harth is out of control!” Huck added vehemently. “You make him angry, you take your life in your hands!”

“So you made Harth angry?” Teba clarified.

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you aren’t taking this seriously,” snapped Nekk.

“Harth has no right to hit you,” Teba agreed. “Though he doesn’t react in violence without some cause. Care to share why this happened?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything! You’ve allowed violence on our boardwalks, and now in our shops!”

“How helpful,” Saki drawled.

“Hey, we don’t have to like what intermarriage with the islanders is going to do to the village as we know it,” Huck protested, predictably giving away Nekk’s position.

“Is that what this is about?” Teba pressed.

“Everyone knows Guy’s fucking that seabird. It’s a disgrace,” Nekk said.

“I might start by saying that both of your attitudes are repellent,” Teba said sharply. “It’s hardly a wonder that Harth cracked your beak if this is what you said to him.”

“It’s still unacceptable that he goes unpunished for such things.”

“I might also add that if we don’t intermarry with other Rito we will breed ourselves out of existence in only a few generations.”

“That’s why Bedoli and I are planning for a full nest,” announced Huck smugly.

“Teba, if you don’t do something about this, you will regret your inaction,” Nekk growled.

Teba suspected that Nekk could easily put him in a compromised position with the Zora’s impeding diplomatic visit. He glanced between Nekk and Huck, sickened to once more be cornered between righteous chaos and asinine order.

“If I hear a whisper of any more kind of hateful talk from either of you, I will drag you to the guards’ post and clip your wings myself,” Teba promised darkly. “And I will do it with pleasure.”

With that hanging over the shop, Teba rested a wing softly on Saki’s back as they headed up the boardwalk.

“I think threatening them was a poor choice,” Saki said quietly.

“It’s the only language they seem to understand.”

“They’ll call you a hypocrite.”

“Maybe I am,” Teba said, stopping at the bridge out to the shrine. He stared at the landing where Kass played his accordion, the sound drifting out over the open water of Lake Totori. 

“Where are Tulin and Molli?” Teba asked absently.

“Playing on the stacks.”

“I need to speak with Kass.”

“I’ll see you at home,” Saki said, reaching up to caress Teba’s cheek before she continued up the boardwalk. It was that those gestures that Teba had begun to appreciate, those signs of what he and his wife had fought to build together—that reminder that something more than duty could exist between them. How fortunate he was to have not carelessly destroyed that.

Turning toward the landing, Teba thought he heard an unusual note of melancholy in Kass’s song. As Teba crossed the bridge, Kass ceased his playing and lowered his accordion as he stared out at the newly green hills and the looming cliff faces beyond. Teba stood next to Kass, idly wondering if Rito secretly dwelt on those distant shores as well.

“You’re troubled,” Kass observed.

Teba nodded, though the statement would have been true much of the time since he had taken up this role. He had refused to believe in the necessity of harsh punishments after watching Gesane crumble under the shame of having his wings clipped, though perhaps he had been wrong to dismantle the systems that had kept the more extreme elements in order.

“You’ve never favoured the harsh punishments of the Rito,” Teba finally said.

“It was rare that those most deserving of justice received anything but pain,” sighed Kass. “Mimo has been branded a coward, his life utterly ruined, and it remains to be seen if Gesane will ever fully heal. And for what? The good sense to run from danger and the audacity to love a Hylian?”

“You’ve made your stance clear in the past, Kass,” Teba said flatly, still ashamed of the part he had played in both of those punishments.

“Then why ask?”

“I think I’ve done the wrong thing,” said Teba quietly. “Abolishing them completely.”

“Teba...who do you mean to punish?” Kass asked carefully.

“Nekk and Huck are spreading rumours, perhaps riling up those who agree with them. They claim that if we intermarry with other Rito we will ruin the fabric of the village.”

“And you have a vested interest in this because Saki isn’t a northerner?” Kass asked dryly.

“I have a vested interest in this because it’s utter filth! And it’s entirely untrue! The Northern Rito have always intermarried with other tribes.”

“I don’t know that we can punish them unless they demonstrate their views in a more tangible manner.”

“It’s not Nekk and Huck I—” Teba cut himself off, sighing irately as he shook his head. “Harth cracked Nekk’s beak.”

“Harth has got away with some egregious...” Kass hesitated, “ _indiscretions_ in the time I’ve lived here.” 

“You mean to say I have too.”

“Guilty conscience?” Kass pressed wryly.

“Unbearably.”

“The rules of our village have changed. What would you do if Nekk had cracked Harth’s beak?”

“I would lash him to the guards’ post—we can’t abide this—”

Teba stopped speaking as Kass turned in the direction of Harth’s roost, his brow furrowed. Following Kass’s gaze, Teba saw a half-dozen Rito gathered in there. Without a word between them, Teba and Kass crossed the bridge back to the boardwalk to investigate the source of the commotion.

“Here’s our esteemed Elder!” Nekk shouted in a mockery of welcome.

Teba shoved his way through the crowd and into Harth’s roost, where he and Kass pushed themselves between Harth and those assembled on the boardwalk.

“Teba...” Harth said, though Teba could not tell whether it was gratitude or apprehension in his voice.

“As usual, Teba rules in favour of his friends!” Nekk called to the crowd.

“I haven’t ruled anything.”

“Oh, so Harth _will_ face punishment for what he’s done? Or are you going to drag me out in front of the village and clip my wings for having a perspective with which you disagree?”

“I only hit you because you’re foul!” Harth shouted attempting to press between Teba and Kass to confront the crowd.

Kass turned and pressed Harth back, and Teba nearly laughed at how unbearably like Harth it was to put him in such a quandary.

“Kass let go of me!”

“Return to your roosts,” Teba told the knot of Rito on the boardwalk. “We have never conducted justice in such a direct manner and we are not about to start!”

The Rito scattered, save for Nekk who stood rooted to the spot a moment longer.

“Nekk, you’ve been asked to leave,” Teba reiterated.

“I’m going,” said Nekk. “But you’d better do something about Harth, because the village is growing weary of your weak leadership.”

As Nekk turned and retreated down the boardwalk, Teba stood frozen. Even those who had been among his most ardent supporters—those who had initially installed him as Elder—seemed to be wavering. He had barely spoken to Harth or Kass since they had returned, and Amali was still angry about the dead pigeon found in her roost. For all they claimed to abhor the archaic practices of justice, the villagers seemed perfectly happy to continue on with their cruel punishments. As always, at the centre of the conflagration was Harth.

Gripped with a hot rush of fury, Teba whipped around, grasped the fabric of Harth’s scarf and slammed him against the back wall of his roost. The wood shivered around them as Harth’s body made contact with the lattice beneath the landing.

“Teba!” Kass shouted.

“Why did you do that?!” Teba growled hoarsely, his forehead pressed hard against Harth’s.

“Get off me!” Harth protested, his wings scrabbling to push Teba away.

“Stop, both of you!” said Kass, yanking Teba back.

“Harth, you have no idea the position you’ve put me in,” Teba snapped, still panting from his sudden flare of anger.

“Teba, if you’d heard the things he said—”

“I _know_ the things Nekk says! Nekk says them to provoke you!”

“You haven’t done _anything_ ,” Harth hissed. “You asked a few questions about pigeons, but what have you actually done to stop what’s been going on at that shop? He has all of the businesses in arms against you because you’ve brought the islanders into our midst!”

“Don’t act as though this is the first time you’ve lost your temper and badly injured someone.”

“Oh what are you going to do Teba? Drag me down to the guards’ post?”

Teba grit his beak, not trusting himself to speak, and nodded.

“You can’t be serious.”

“You’ve put me in this position.”

Harth shook his head.

“I need to show them that I don’t tolerate violence...or favour my friends.”

Harth exhaled in unbearable aggravation.

“Fine,” said Harth, though his voice had grown taught and hoarse. “But I want Gesane to guard me.”

“Alright,” Teba nodded.

“And Molli doesn’t see any of this.”

“Of course”

“And anything done to me—tying, wing clipping—”

“—there won’t be any wing clipping—”

“— _anything_ that befalls me...you do it,” said Harth, a note of venom in his tone. “And I hope you choke on it.”

Harth said not another word, but accompanied Teba and Kass down to the guards’ post. As Harth sat back against the railing and spread his wings, he cast Teba such an expression of betrayal that Teba nearly wept on the spot. Biting back the bile that burned in his throat, Teba knelt and tied the rope through the slats and around Harth’s wings. He was gripped with the urge to apologize, but feared that they were too far past that point to ever return.

When Teba arose, Kass had already collected Gesane. As Gesane glanced between Harth and Teba, the warrior’s look of betrayal nearly matched Harth’s, and Teba wondered for a moment whether any of this was wise. Goddess, how he longed for the days when he could resolve trouble within warrior ranks by sending them to burn out monster colonies. Perhaps if Teba had not exempt Harth from so many of these expeditions, he would not be dealing with this now, he thought darkly.

“Don’t let anyone cause him harm,” Teba said, and Gesane nodded his agreement.

Unable to face Saki and the children—and knowing that Guy had the novices at the Flight Range for training—Teba took off from the edge of the stack and drifted down to the stable. The yard was empty, save for Lester, and Teba sat down beside the old man near the cooking pot. Lester looked as though he was about to say something, but shrank back as Teba glowered.

The sun dipped behind the mountains and night fell, yet Teba remained by the cooking pot—the last soul in the stable yard. The warmth of the day dissipated in the cool evening breeze, and Teba started idly out at the fireflies that played in the long grass.

“Mind if I join you?” a voice cut through the hum of insects and the crackling of low flame.

Teba glanced up to see Kaneli limping into the sphere of dim light cast by the cooking fire. He had been avoiding his former mentor since their last confrontation, but found himself strangely grateful for his company.

“If you wish,” muttered Teba, though Kaneli had settled in Lester’s abandoned seat before Teba had said a word.

“Are you alright?”

“Strange, I’ve never heard you ask that,” Teba commented bitterly.

“I’ve known you since the day you were hatched...though if you truly believe that I don’t care for your well-being, perhaps that is my shame.”

“Is that why you’ve come?”

“In part.”

“Hm,” Teba rumbled deep in his throat.

“If you’re making decisions in an effort to hold onto your position, you’re making them for the wrong reason,” Kaneli told him bluntly.

“I would like nothing more than for the Goddess to take this weight from my shoulders,” said Teba. “But Nekk is wrong. And Huck is wrong. And Harth is wrong.”

“You aren’t well known for controlling your impulses either.”

“And perhaps I am wrong.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

Teba sighed and buried his head in his wing. Being a warrior had been so easy—decisions were all in the service of protecting the village and not dying on the field of battle. The enemies were clear, the stakes even clearer. Honour was granted to those who performed their duties. There was no such clarity in the role of Elder.

“You can’t predict what will come of this,” said Kaneli.

“I can predict one thing,” Teba muttered bitterly, the tear in the fabric of his friendship with Harth now complete.

“Nekk would have rallied his supporters against you. They may have even taken matters of justice against Harth into their own wings. Harth my not appreciate the magnitude of this, but he is safe tonight because of your actions.”

“You agree with Nekk though.”

“No,” said Kaneli firmly. “Intermarriage has only ever made us stronger.”

“You prevented non-productive marriages. Nekk is still very much in favour of such a stance.”

Kaneli sighed deeply and straightened his beard.

“Had I known we were but a moon’s turn away from our salvation, I would have revised my stance,” said Kaneli. “I made a decision to preserve the flock and it cost me my leadership.”

Teba ground his beak as he stared into the flames.

“I don’t want to be Elder. Take it back.”

“Teba...”

“Take it back,” Teba begged on the verge of weeping. “I want to be a warrior again. I can’t bear the weight of this.”

As Teba buried his face in both wings he felt Kaneli’s wing rest across his shoulders.

“This role is a lonely one, I know,” said Kaneli, his wing moving gently on Teba’s back. “But you are the only one who can be Elder at this moment. This won’t ever be easy, but you have the strength for it.”

Teba shook his head and inhaled shakily.

“The village came out in your favour,” Kaneli reminded him.

“And I’ve betrayed their trust.”

“Come back to the village,” Kaneli pressed, gripping his shoulder comfortingly.

Teba raised his head from his wings and drew in a calming breath. His lungs felt raw from containing the momentary break, yet it trailed through him like a crack in fragile ice.

“I think...I’d rather just sit here for a while,” Teba said at length, and Kaneli made no move to leave him.

**Harth**

Harth sat in silence, ignoring the shooting pains in his outstretched wings until sometime after the sun had set. Gesane attempted to speak to him only once before he gave up and lit the lanterns as darkness fell around them. As he stewed in his own bile, Harth’s anger simmered into betrayal that his dearest friend could do this to him.

“Gesane,” Harth said finally.

Gesane said nothing as he approached the edge of the gaurds’ post, his expression betraying nothing.

“I apologize for ignoring you earlier,” Harth said, desperately wanting someone to speak with him.

“I know well the frustration of being bound,” Gesane solemnly sympathized. “I would cut you loose if you asked.”

“Better not,” sighed Harth. “I don’t want to put you in a complicated spot.”

“Then what? You wish to rail against Teba?” Gesane guessed.

“How could he take Nekk’s side?” Harth breathed, resting his head back against the half wall.

“Nekk is dangerous,” said Gesane quietly.

“And his ideas are appalling.”

“Loathe though I am to admit it, I understand why you’re here.”

“I really thought you’d take my side in this,” Harth said flatly.

Gesane opened and closed his beak a little, as though he was not entirely sure how to put his thoughts into words.

“Whatever you’re going to say, just say it,” Harth grumbled.

“You have a bad temper. You and Teba both. Teba got away with it under Kaneli, and you’ve been shielded from the consequences of your actions by Teba in turn.”

“Huh. Well,” Harth huffed, surprised that Gesane had actually had the gall to say it.

“I believe that Nekk deserved what he was given, but...” Gesane trailed off.

“You didn’t, those years ago...deserve what I did to you.”

Gesane’s beak clenched, and he looked as though he was about to turn away.

“Gesane.”

“I thought you...weren’t like that anymore.”

“I’m not,” floundered Harth. “Or maybe I am, I don’t really know.”

At that, Gesane did turn away, and Harth was surprised at the hurt which lanced him through at the idea he might not have anyone left at all, that he had alienated nearly everyone in his life.

“Gesane,” Harth said again. The guard stopped, but did not turn back to face him. “I’m sorry. I thought I could make it up to you without ever having to say it, but I realize that I can’t.”

“Harth...”

“I’m so deeply sorry for what I did to you.”

Gesane’s grip tightened on his spear, his fingers digging in along the colourful cord which bound the grip.

“It’s long past,” Gesane finally conceded. “We’re both different now.”

The silence stretched on as Gesane did a brief round of the area. For all Harth could accept that what he had done to Gesane was wrong and cruel, he could not seem to reconcile what he had done to Nekk. Perhaps he was over-sensitive, defensive even, about what had transpired with Soni.

“Do you still support Teba?” Harth asked.

“Of course,” said Gesane.

“Even if he brought back wing-clipping?”

“He wouldn’t.”

“He might.”

“This is far too mild a transgression to be punished so harshly.”

“Nekk is manipulating him.”

“Then Nekk may very well meet his fate at the end of his shears,” said Gesane. “You’re worried over nothing.”

“Surely, you’ve suffered the most harm in this.”

“Harth, I don’t want to talk about this.”

Gesane remained quiet for much of the rest of the night, dutifully pacing and scouting the area for disturbances. No matter how he tried, Harth could not seem to forgive Teba. It didn’t matter whether it was right or wrong to have struck Nekk (it was _right_ ), Harth could not abide the feeling that he had become merely a piece in Teba’s political game. It was that which hurt far more than the discomfort in his wings.

As the sun rose, Gesane seemed listless at his post, but remained, and Harth wondered how long it would be before Teba returned to hand down some sort of decision. He did not have to wait long as Teba returned with Kass, Skovo, Mazli, and Cecili in tow.

“Am I to face arbitration at this very moment?” Harth asked, standing and flexing his wings as Gesane cut him loose.

“A private hearing,” said Teba. “Did you strike Nekk and crack his beak?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have anything more to say on the matter?”

“Nekk is using you, Teba. He provoked me and I reacted in anger. I accept that committing violence to my fellow Rito is wrong, but in the same situation, I would do it again.”

“Arbiters, are there any further questions?” Teba asked.

As the arbiters disappeared to make their ruling, Harth approached Teba.

“So justice will be just the same as it always was?” Harth asked him bitterly.

“If you are referring to my stacking of the arbiters with those of sound mind...then yes, justice will remain the same.”

“You chose Mazli, you can’t be too concerned with sound minds.”

The arbiters returned shortly and stood before Harth and Teba. Kass held the drafted ruling on a scrap of parchment and read out their decision.

“It is our decision that for committing violence, Harth will be reassigned to regular patrols with the warriors. Effective immediately,” Kass said.

Harth stared between Kass and Teba, unable to comprehend the wild irregularity of the ruling. Teba dismissed the arbiters, though Kass remained behind as Skovo, Mazli and Cecili returned to the village. A look from Teba was all that it took to send Gesane following after them.

“Teba,” Harth protested. “I can’t commit to regular patrols! What about Molli?”

“Saki will take care of her.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m also joining the patrols,” said Teba.

“Against my advice,” Kass pointed out, his voice tense.

“So this isn’t so much a punishment as...”

“You are aware of the situation in the mountains,” said Teba. “Unless you want to spend the winter eating bokoblin flesh, we’d best get a handle on them quickly.”

“And Kass?” asked Harth.

“I’m staying behind in Teba’s stead,” said Kass. “Should anything happen...”

“Fine,” said Harth. “I accept.”

“It’s a ruling. You haven’t any choice but to accept,” Kass pointed out.

“Well, it makes me feel better to think I have some sort of say in this!” Harth snapped.

Teba nodded curtly and turned back toward the village, Kass following a few steps behind. There was no warrior’s exchange, no gripping of wings in the symbolic gesture of warriorhood. Teba had changed, Harth thought bitterly, and Harth had not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been a little slow on updates (on everything), and I can't promise that will change very soon, but I won't abandon this fic as long as there are people out there looking forward to it. However, you may find me stretching my wings (Rito pun intended) in some genres and ships where I don't usually play ;)
> 
> -Sun <3


	11. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have changed how I handle content warnings to avoid spoilers. My fic endnotes (located at the end of the last chapter) is now a list of content warnings. I will note in the author’s notes of new chapters if I add to that list.

**Kass**

The spring was yielding to summer, the pleasant breeze rustling Kass’s sun-warmed feathers as he stood on Revali’s Landing to see his daughters off to the Flight Range. Their adult flight feathers were growing in, and—though Kass had been hesitant to let them go off on such a flight unaccompanied—he and Amali had reluctantly decided that on these frequent short flights, they should be entrusted to go on their own.

“How tall you’ve all grown this spring,” Kass remarked, brushing Kheel’s hair from her eyes.

“Teba says by next summer we should be able to use full-sized swallow bows,” said Genli brightly.

“I’m sure that’s true.”

“Kass!”

At the sound of his name, he turned to find it was Mazli, little Fyrza held securely in his wing as he stood on the boardwalk.

“The Zora delegates have arrived, I don’t know where Teba is.”

“He’s at the Flight Range,” Kass told him.

Mazli glanced north to the mountains and then at his tiny son.

“Mazli, you don’t have to go,” said Kass, noticing his conflict. “Notts, you and your sisters go get Teba. Let him know that the Zora delegates have arrived then come right back.”

Genli sighed loudly at the prospect of not having their regular lesson.

“Go,” Kass instructed his children, seeing them off before he turned back to Mazli. “Who’s meeting the delegates?”

“Laissa and Amali,” said Mazli, shifting Fyrza to his other wing as they walked down the spiral of boardwalk. Kass noticed Mazli’s unkempt feathers and recognized the sleeplessness of the early days of parenthood.

“Are you...alright?” Kass asked tentatively.

“I was going to rest—I’ve just come off patrol—but Laissa is tied up in this, and I have to do a flyover this evening...” Mazli rubbed hard at his eyes.

“When did you last sleep?” Kass asked.

Mazli laughed a little in response. “Sleep? I don’t know how you managed five, Kass, I really don’t.”

“I was exempt from warrior exercises,” Kass said dryly, though he could scarcely remember having had a single night’s rest in that first year with his daughters.

“Right. Teba was pretty angry about it, I remember.”

“I’ll see if Laissa can be excused,” Kass vowed as they stopped briefly in front of Mazli’s roost. “Surely there isn’t anything that requires the First Warrior’s presence.”

“Thank you,” Mazli said sincerely.

Kass made his way down to the guard’s post where Raza stood stiffly, watching the Zora delegates as they walked with Laissa and Amali. Kass thought that he recognized the diminutive red-scaled Zora who walked a little ahead of the others, but the guards were unfamiliar to him.

“Kass,” said Amali, the tense expression on her face suggesting that this had come as unexpectedly to her as to everyone else. “This is the Zora delegation. Laflat, secretary to the Royal Family,” the red-scaled Zora pressed her hands together and inclined her head slightly. “And Gaddison and Torfeau of the Zora Guard.”

“Welcome to Rito Village,” Kass bid them as pleasantly as he could through his surprise.

“Kass is my husband and the Village Chronicler,” Amali informed the Zora.

“Are you not the bard who came to ask of Lady Mipha?” Gaddison asked.

“You might say I’ve...moved up in the world.”

As Laissa led the delegation up the boardwalk, Amali grabbed Kass’s wing, holding him back.

“The Swallow’s Roost is still full,” Amali whispered. “They won’t have the new roosts finished for at least a moon’s turn.”

“Perhaps some of the novices might stay at the stable?”

“You know how they are with horses...”

“They’re getting better...” said Kass flatly.

“Teba should have thought of this,” Amali hissed.

“We all should have,” Kass said. This wasn’t the first time he had defended Teba from his wife since he had returned from the islands.

Presently, the aforementioned Elder arrived on the boardwalk with Saki, and Laissa excused herself to return to her roost. As Amali introduced Teba and the delegates, Saki gestured for Kass come with her. Kass followed Saki up the boardwalk to the inn where it became clear that someone had already shared the same concerns as Amali.

The novices rolled their hammocks and blankets under Guy and Gesane’s direction, chattering amongst themselves as usual. Gesane seemed hardly bothered as he helped unhook one of the higher hammocks, but Guy seemed ill at ease.

“Tal, quit fooling around,” Guy snapped as one of the novices burst into laughter when a blanket dropped on her from above.

“You heard Guy,” Keci reiterated, yanking the blanket from Tal’s head. “Fold this and get packed! Where is the seriousness you had when we left the island?”

“Where are we sending the novices?” Kass asked Saki.

“Guy and Keci are going to stay with a few novices at the Flight Range,” Saki told Kass. “Gesane is going to escort the rest to the stable.”

“And Hossa?” Kass asked, glancing at the young island delegate.

“I’m going to the stable,” Hossa said joining them. “After I meet the Zora.”

“Perhaps you ought to go meet them now then,” Saki suggested. “It looks as though we could do with a little more time.”

As Hossa headed down the boardwalk, Keci, Guy and Gesane urged the novices up toward Revali’s Landing. Verla furiously fluffed pillows and straightened the bed linens as Cecili swept the floor of the feathers and bits of nature that had come out in the chaos.

“I think we’re already too late,” Kass said under his breath as he spotted Teba and the Zora rounding the pillar.

Guy and Gesane turned to see the party, Gesane’s eyes lit with the curiosity of having never met Zora, but Kass’s attention was drawn to how Guy stiffened. Sudden panic in his expression, Guy left Gesane to stand and stare at the party while he rushed to catch up with the novices.

As Teba and Saki pointed out the shops along the boardwalk, Amali came once more to stand beside Kass.

“That one, the shorter guard,” Amali whispered.

“Torfeau?” Kass clarified.

“She and Guy...” Amali’s eyebrows raised meaningfully.

“I don’t think that’s any of our business,” said Kass.

“No wonder his wife won’t let him see his son.”

“Amali...” sighed Kass, wondering when she had grown so malicious.

The rest of the day was spent with the delegates. Laflat spent her time with Teba and Hossa, negotiating the gritty details of an alliance, but Kass had had quite enough of such negotiations and was happy to show Torfeau and Gaddison around the village.

“It is fortunate that we begin our alliance in these dark days when the Divine Beasts that guard our settlements have grown quiet, and monsters grow in number,” Gaddison said as they sat down at the table in the inn, awaiting the rest of the party to meet them for an evening meal.

“So you’ve seen the same things we have?” Kass asked.

“The lizalfos in our wetlands spawn like biting flies,” said Gaddison. “We can barely keep on top of them.”

“We’ve been seeing much the same,” confessed Kass. “Though they no longer resurrect since the blood moon ceased to visit, they have become overwhelming in number.”

“Then it is fortunate our people have found one another,” said Gaddison, raising her ceramic cup meaningfully. “Our warriors have much to learn from one another...though it has been long years since the Zora and Rito fought side-by-side...perhaps longer than you could remember.”

“It is true. No one here has any memory of that old partnership,” agreed Kass. “But it is to our strength to combine our efforts.”

“Let us hope negotiations go well, then,” chimed Torfeau. “The Rito have been a kind and accommodating people.”

Kass could not fail to miss the look that Gaddison cast Torfeau, and wondered if there was any truth to what Amali had implied about Torfeau and Guy. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Laflat, Hossa and Teba. Laflat looked pleased, her ledger clutched to her chest as she sat down gracefully beside Kass.

“Am I to take it negotiations went well?” Kass asked.

“Negotiations are ongoing,” said Teba dourly.

“For now, let’s enjoy one another’s company,” Hossa said smoothly, ever more diplomatically inclined than Teba.

“Here, here,” agreed Gaddison.

**Gesane**

“Not that I’m not happy to see the business,” said Galli, glancing around as the novices settled in their hammocks along the stable walls, “but might you have given us some advanced warning?”

“Yes, I see you’re run off your feet,” Gesane remarked dryly, glancing around at the otherwise empty stable.

“When did you become such a smartass?” Galli grumbled.

“Haven’t you noticed? He’s always been like that,” said Ariane.

“Smartass?” Gesane pressed.

“I knew you’d ask that,” said Ariane, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Gesane glanced at the novices, who stared at them with the same mix of curiosity and offence that he still experienced in the village. At least the Hylians had grown used to some displays of affection between himself and Ariane, Gesane thought grimly. Under the scrutiny of the novices, Gesane wilted, and subtly stepped away from Ariane to head out to the stable yard. Ariane followed shortly to where he stood by the timber pile, staring at the bark that flaked away from the weathered wood.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Hossa’s going to stay with the novices...I think I’d rather spend the night in the village.”

“Gesane, we were going to spend the night together,” she protested.

“We couldn’t do that with all of those novices.”

“I’ve been to your village. Don’t pretend that this is because the Rito have some sort of sense of privacy, because I’ve seen enough to know that you don’t. This is about us.”

“Then how about you come back to the village with me?”

“And what? Stare at Guy moping across your roost all night?”

“Guy’s staying with Keci at the Flight Range,” said Gesane. “Mimo’s left...I doubt he’ll be back any time soon...”

“Are you certain you’re ready for this?” she asked, her eyebrows raising as she realized what Gesane was suggesting.

“We have the roost to ourselves. What better night than tonight?”

“Alright,” said Ariane, catching the edges of the cuirass near his waist, “but if you want this to work, you need to stop hiding.”

Gesane nodded and dipped his head so she could kiss the end of his beak. He wanted badly to indulge her, to wrap her in his wings without regard for who may be watching, but the scars of the previous summer still remained, and he worried for them both, no matter how Teba had assured him that he would not stand in their way. 

It was remained difficult to feel safe walking through the whispers that followed him on the boardwalk.

\---

As Ariane collapsed forward onto his breast, both of them sticky and panting, Gesane felt that he had finally made good on his promise. Though the curtains were drawn, the furious wind still made its way inside, and Ariane’s flesh was raised in bumps as she wriggled up to rest her head on his shoulder. The blanket half-spilled from the hammock, and Gesane reached down to gather it up over her bare skin.

“I suppose that was worth the wait,” she whispered finally.

“It was nice,” Gesane agreed, shifting to wrap himself around her. “I missed you more than I realized.”

“So I only get ‘nice’?” she teased.

“It is a fair assessment,” he said tightening his wings around her.

“You’re impossible,” she mocked, snuggling aback against him.

Ariane fell asleep soon after, warm beneath the blanket with him. It was a rare occasion that they could share this without having to hush themselves in the closed canopy of the stable bed. Gesane drew his beak through her hair and relished in the way her skin slid against his feathers when they breathed. He should have known this happy moment was to be short lived.

The curtain that covered the door was drawn back with such great force that Gesane leapt from his hammock in fear, and Ariane sat up, drawing the blanket around her. Gesane covered himself with his wing, acutely aware of the state of his feathers, annoyed to find that the figure staring at him was only Guy.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Guy said.

“I thought you were at the Flight Range for the night?” Ariane said irately, pulling the blanket around her to cover herself as she slid to the floor to search for her clothes.

“I—Keci and I...” Guy trailed off and Gesane felt an irrational flare of anger in his chest.

“I thought you had already ended things.”

“Sort of...but then we may have restarted them again. And then I ended it...again.”

“You found this an appropriate time to end your association?” Gesane asked.

“How was I to know you two wouldn’t be at the stable?” Guy asked peevishly. “Or decent?”

Guy pointedly looked away from Ariane as she turned her back to pull on her smallclothes.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” said Gesane. “You were to be responsible for the novices there.”

“I didn’t want this, alright? Not to train novices, not this mess with Keci...”

“You make your own messes, Guy,” Ariane complained acidly as she pulled on her longsleeves.

“Ariane...” said Gesane, conciliatory in spite of his own annoyance.

“No, she’s right,” said Guy in anguish. “And then there’s what happened with Torfeau...”

“The Zora guard?” asked Gesane in surprise.

“Hardly a wonder that your marriage fell apart,” said Ariane, darkly. “The way you sleep with anyone one crosses your path.”

“Both of you stop,” begged Gesane.

“Why are you siding with him?” Ariane pressed.

“I want peace! I’m not siding with anyone!”

“No you always do,” said Ariane. “You always need to see what Guy says, check up on Guy. Is Guy sleeping with you too?”

At Guy’s sudden flustered choking, Ariane’s eyes widened.

“Oh, Hylia...”

“We’re not sleeping together,” said Gesane. 

He reached out for her hand but she drew back in anger.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Ariane whispered.

“Ariane—”

“Guy, what isn’t Gesane telling me?” Ariane snapped, pushing past Gesane and rounding on Guy.

“I—” Guy protested, backing against the curtain, his expression marred with terrible guilt.

“We used to!” Gesane blurted, fearing what Guy might say. “Long before I met you!”

Ariane turned and stared, her lips struggling to form words as she shook her head in disbelief.

“What?” she finally asked.

“We were...together,” Gesane said, his pounding heart threatening to choke him as he stared at Ariane’s expression, her lips pallid and bloodless.

“You were together...and...you think it’s alright that you live together now? And you never told me?”

“It wasn’t li—”

“You shut the hell up, Guy!” snapped Ariane.

“Can we speak about this alone, please?” asked Gesane evenly, not wanting Guy to muddy the waters.

“No. I want to hear what you would say in front of both of us” Ariane told him, though Gesane could hear the tears in her voice.

“That I’m in love with you,” said Gesane, fearing his voice would break. “When I said I’ve never felt that for another—” Gesane glanced and Guy as he tried to hide the sadness in his expression. “I meant it.”

“Guy?” pressed Ariane.

“It’s true. It’s what he said when...he ended things between us,” said Guy, though Gesane had rarely heard such pain in his tone and he was nearly overcome with the guilt of having caused it over and over again. 

“I need to think,” said Ariane, drawing her cloak around her and pushing aside the curtain.

“Please, don’t go,” Gesane begged, following her onto the cool air of the boardwalk.

“Don’t make a scene. I need the space to think this through, and if you can’t give me it...” she trailed off.

“At least let me walk you.”

“No. I don’t want to speak to you right now.”

Gesane stared after her as she disappeared into the darkness, the lantern light from the boardwalk glimmering off the red and gold in her hair. As the wind cut between his feathers, Gesane retreated back inside, not wanting to face ridicule for being out on the boardwalk with nothing on.

“You didn’t tell her?” Guy asked incredulously as Gesane returned to the roost.

“Tell her what?” Gesane asked acerbically. “That you and I used to run off to the mountains together when we were novices and for some reason you can’t seem to get over it?”

“What—that’s not—I’m over it,” Guy stammered unconvincingly.

“You’re not,” said Gesane. “It’s why you need to leave.”

“A roost for me is not of the highest priority while they’re trying to construct quarters for the novices,” Guy said.

“And I know that, and that’s why I haven’t thrown you out...but, I believe this might be...damaging to you,” Gesane said carefully.

“No. No it isn’t,” Guy protested.

“Do you have feelings for me?” Gesane asked, that question he had dreaded so long.

“You’re my friend,” said Guy firmly.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Well what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you—have— _ah_ do you feel anything for me?” Guy asked, and even in the dim light of the roost, Gesane could see the pleading look in his expression.

“No,” said Gesane, though he dreaded to to it. “Nothing’s changed.”

“Right,” said Guy, and he drew in a sharp breath.

Guy pulled his blanket from his bunk and looked around the roost in slight confusion before he made for the curtain that flapped in the breeze over the door.

“We’re are you going?” Gesane asked.

“I dunno.”

“You don’t have to leave right now.”

“You let Ariane go, what’s different about me?”

“Ariane has a bed in the stable. Your mother won’t let you stay with her, that leaves you with little else.”

“Well...maybe you should clean yourself up,” Guy said covering his beak with his wing as he broke down.

“Guy, you should lie down.”

Guy shook his head, and Gesane put a firm wing on his shoulder to direct him to his hammock, worried about the confusion this might all cause. For the first time Gesane could remember, Guy shrugged off Gesane’s touch, and jerkily pulled himself into his hammock.

As he poured water into a basin, Gesane tried hard not to glance in Guy’s direction, where he had curled in his hammock, back to Gesane, and quietly wept. The sickening feeling of having broken two hearts that night preoccupied Gesane as he dampened a cloth to scrub what remained of his earlier activities from his plumage.

**Teba**

Teba often awoke with the first rays of the sun and the sound of birds singing to their mates in the evergreens. The morning was grey, and the sunlight did not wake him as usual, but a rather more sinister clamour than birds in springtime reached his hearing and roused him from his hammock.

Things always seemed to go wrong all at once, Teba thought as he stared out at the landing, now overrun by angry seabirds, shouting for an audience. As Teba made his way down the board walk, he saw Harth running out from his roost as well. A woman with grey wings and grey flecks on her white feathers clasped Harth’s wing in an a panic—Soni, Teba recognized her at last.

“What is the meaning of this?” Teba asked.

“Teba, I’m sorry, they made me,” Soni protested.

“So you’re the leader of this tribe?” shouted a cobalt-grey seabird, his orange eyes flashing even in the dim light of the morning.

From the corner of his eye, Teba could see Rito from his own village beginning to wander up the boardwalks to investigate the disturbance. It wouldn’t be long before the Zora joined them, Teba thought in frustration. Surely this would win them no alliances.

“I’m Teba, Village Elder,” he confirmed.

“So you ordered the abduction of our youth?”

“Abduction?” repeated Teba in confusion. “You sent them to us to learn archery.”

Teba sensed more than saw Harth at his side as the landing erupted in angry squawks and argument. He glanced down the boardwalk to where Kass and Hossa shared looks of alarm, Soni pushing through the throng in their direction.

“Teba,” came Harth’s voice, close and quiet, but clear over the chaos. “I may need to tell you something.”

As he turned to see Harth’s guilty expression, Teba found he did not even have it in him to be angry.

\---

They offered the islanders meals, and sent Guy and Gesane to retrieve to novices so that they might visit with their parents. As Teba watched the tearful reunions, Keci sidled up to Teba.

“We all left of our own volition,” she said.

“So I’m told.”

“Don’t make them go back. Everyone’s learned so much.”

Teba said nothing. It was not a promise he felt he could make.

As the seabirds calmed themselves Teba returned to Harth’s roost where Kass, Hossa and Soni already awaited him, deep in discussion with Harth. Kass cleared his throat at Teba’s arrival and the hushed conversation stopped.

“So you knew, then?” Teba asked. “All of you?”

“No, Teba, just me,” said Harth. “The novices wished to come train with us, to secure their futures. It felt wrong to stop them.”

“Clearly their families felt differently,” said Teba darkly.

“Harth, you should have warned us,” said Kass sharply.

“I know.”

“And yet you did not,” Kass pressed.

“Kass, it doesn’t matter,” said Teba.

“It does matter!” Kass snapped. “By keeping this secret, Harth has put us in a compromised position with the islanders.”

“I’m curious what else Harth and Soni have kept from us,” Hossa commented.

“They wanted to know how to fight in spite of their parents’ wishes, we brought them here, their parents are angry. What more is there to it?” Harth protested angrily.

“It certainly sounds like there’s more,” said Kass.

Harth glanced between Teba and Soni. She glanced at Hossa and nodded and with a pained expression. Harth broke.

“They want to break away from the Tropical Rito,” Harth said finally. “No offence, Hossa.”

“Why would I be offended?”

“Why would you not?”

“I want a secure future for everyone on the islands,” said Hossa. “I petitioned for our youth to join the training as well. Unsurprisingly, my voice went unheard.”

“I didn’t know that,” said Harth.

“You missed a lot the first few days,” said Hossa evenly.

“So what do we do about this?” asked Teba, pressing at the pain growing in the side of his head.

“Send us with a guide to scout out a coast,” suggested Soni. “We can treat this as a settlement excursion and show them the benefit of migrating here.”

“We can’t spare any warriors,” said Teba. “Kass?”

“I don’t know that it would be wise to send me,” Kass protested.

“If you’ll pardon the intrusion,” came a soft voice from the doorway. “I believe we may have a solution.”

Teba turned to see Laflat, Gaddison and Torfeau framed in the door way of Harth’s roost.

**Guy**

Guy wasn’t certain how Teba had managed it, or if had even done anything at all. All Guy knew as he escorted the Zora to Hebra Plunge in preparation for their journey with the islanders, was that he would be free of his duties training the novices for several days.

“We’re hardened warriors,” Gaddison pointed out as the group climbed up along the grassy slopes. “We’re hardly in need of an escort.”

“I’ll say,” Guy muttered, avoiding Torfeau’s glance.

“Don’t think of us as an escort. We’re merely company,” said Laissa, giving Guy a sharp look.

“It is certainly appreciated,” said Laflat generously. “The hospitality of the Rito has been unmatched.”

The waterfall thundered into the plunge below, stirring up white foam and cold mist. As the Zora dove into the frigid water to refresh themselves, Guy stared at the cascade, at those tiny drops that broke away for a moment as they hurtled over the stone. How frightening it must be to be all alone in free fall. How frightened he felt right now.

“Guy.”

Guy glanced down to where Torfeau folded her arms on the rocks where he stood, the morning sun catching her black scales, and gleaming violet and blue. Fearing he would regret this as much as he had regretted every other exchange in the last few days with people he had spent the night with, he knelt to speak with her.

“You haven’t even said hello to me,” Torfeau said. “Such a thing would be considered poor manners in the Domain.”

“I feared you would...wish to speak about our night together.”

“No,” she said, surprised. “Certainly not if you don’t wish to.”

“Then, what do you wish to say to me?” Guy asked, worried.

“I had only hoped that we might continue the friendship that we began when you stayed in the Domain. Unless I’ve misread the situation?”

“No, nothing like that. The Rito are not such a free minded people as the Zora I’m afraid. Their views on such casual _friendship_ between peoples not our own tends to be less forgiving. I didn’t wish to provoke anyone.”

“We do love whomever we wish,” agreed Torfeau. “Though I have noticed your friend consorts with a Hylian.”

“Perhaps not anymore...more damage for which I am at fault.”

Goddess, there was so much more than that. Gesane would no longer speak with him, and—though Guy had always known he needed to move on—having heard it from Gesane’s beak had left Guy’s insides shredded with a pain that never seemed to leave him.

“Do you wish to talk?” Torfeau pressed.

“I think that I do,” admitted Guy. “Though, I think it must be with someone else.”

She reached up to touch his wing, her scales catching pleasantly on his feathers, just as they had the night they had been together.

“So long as we don’t part in bad faith,” she said.

“Of course not,” Guy responded, strangely reassured that someone in this world wasn’t furious with him.

“I hope that this isn’t our last meeting.”

“I’m sorry I’ve wasted the little time we have,” Guy apologized.

“The Rito are a wary folk,” said Torfeau. “But I am pleased to have known you, warrior.”

“And you, guard.”

The novices and their parents met with the Zora at the foot of the village. If the northerners seemed standoffish to Torfeau, she would no doubt find the islanders absolutely ornery. Fortunately, the guard was persistent, and Guy was certain that she would browbeat someone into friendship by the end of their trek.

As the group set out, Guy stared across to the stable yard where Ariane raked at the gouged earth, trying to smooth away the wheel tracks before they hardened in the dirt. Tentatively, Guy set out in her direction, hoping he would know what to to say by the time he reached her. She looked up and sighed in the back of her throat, adjusting her grip on the rake as though she might use it to strike him if things went poorly.

“What do you want?” Ariane huffed.

“To apologize.”

“Did Gesane send you?”

“Gesane...hasn’t spoken to me since...we’ve had opposite flyovers...” Guy stammered.

“Well, hurry up then,” she said, returning to her task, rake striking the ground furiously.

“I’m in the wrong,” said Guy. “I should have left a long time ago, because of how I felt...but he was the last person left that I trusted.”

“This doesn’t sound much like an apology,” Ariane dismissed him, not looking up.

“Then you might well add this to everything else in my life I’ve destroyed,” said Guy, hating how his voice caught, though he was determined not to weep in the stable yard where every passerby might see him.

At the note in his voice, Ariane looked up once more, her expression still grim.

“You’ve tried to sabotage my relationship with Gesane,” she said.

“No,” Guy said. “I wouldn’t do that. I’ve lived in hope that he might change his mind, only because I can’t help how I feel for him, but I would never do anything to harm either of you.”

“Why would he keep you a secret?” she pressed.

“I can’t answer for him, but what we had was youthful folly...when he only ever wanted friendship.”

Ariane chewed on her lip, her eyes narrowed peevishly as she stared through Guy.

“You are like a fire left unattended in the woods,” she said finally. “You are warm and innocuous until you suddenly burn through everything around you.”

“And you’re like a wounded animal,” snapped Guy, “lashing out at those who would try to help you.”

“Are you helping me now?”

“I have known Gesane my entire life. We trained together, we were blooded together, we fledged as warriors together. As such, I know...he has never loved anyone else but you. He forsook his pledge to Bedoli and had his wings clipped for love of you!”

Ariane’s jaw clenched as Guy spoke.

“Please, Ariane. I’ll leave the roost. I’ll leave the village if I must, but in his whole life I have never known him to be happy...until the day he told me of you.”

“Don’t. Don’t leave,” Ariane sighed. “I’m only angry to have been kept in the dark.”

Guy held his breath, worried that to say anything might shatter this fragile moment of reason between them.

“I must have known, by how you care for him. Perhaps I’m angry that I was too naïve to have noticed.”

“I’m no threat to you,” Guy promised.

“And what about to yourself?”

“You shouldn’t worry about me,” said Guy, turning to retreat back to the village.

“I don’t,” said Ariane, stopping Guy in his tracks. “But he does.”


	12. A Bridge

**Gesane**

In the shadow of Rospro Pass, Gesane had hidden himself away for the night in the Hylian cabin where shield surfers and adventure sometimes sought refuge. In an effort to keep his distance from both Guy and Ariane he had stayed several nights away from his roost, volunteering for night watch at the foot of the village and spending two nights at the Flight Range. 

Gesane had quickly decided that the Flight Range had become far too public a place to sleep when he awoke one morning to find Harth teaching Molli flight. Molli sat on the landing, insisting she was tired as Harth gently tried to her encourage her to go back out into the winds.

“Did you realize I was here?” Gesane asked Harth as he tentatively joined him on the landing.

“Seemed like you needed the rest,” shrugged Harth.

“Dad said you’re learning to fly too,” said Molli.

“I—” Harth trailed off.

“He’s right,” said Gesane.

“But you’re grown, and your wings look strong,” said Molli.

“Molli...” breathed Harth, perhaps recalling how painful this last year had been for Gesane.

“It’s alright,” Gesane told Harth, though he was not certain that he could have been comfortable with Molli’s observations even a moon’s turn ago. “I couldn’t fly because my feathers were damaged. When you don’t fly for a long time, sometimes your wings get weak and you have to learn to how use them again.”

“That’s why I have to come here every day,” Molli agreed sagely.

“You’ll get stronger if you do,” Gesane assured her.

“Can you fly again now?”

“I can.”

“I guess I should practise more,” Molli resolved.

“Thank you,” breathed Harth, staring at Gesane in disbelief.

As Gesane had watched Molli regain her confidence in the Flight Range updrafts, Gesane found that something of that ache over his wings had receded. Lying presently atop the dusty blankets on the cabin bed, he tried to recall that peaceful moment to drown out the ever present ache of having ruined everything else.

The summer days were long this far north, but the sky had grown purple with dusk when Gesane heard the scrape of the door and sat upright in surprise. He had been expecting a Hylian, perhaps one who had come down from the pass, but he found himself at a loss for words when he saw the familiar Stable Association uniform and golden-red hair.

“Ariane...”

“Were you ever going to come speak to me again?” she asked, bolting the door behind her.

“I thought...perhaps you—I’d ruined things between us.”

Ariane stared at him for a moment, her expression revealing nothing. Gesane’s insides twisted, Goddess, why did he have to destroy everything?

“You know, I did wonder if you had been with others—other than Guy—but your astonishing inexperience at all of this suggests that you have no idea of how to keep a relationship together,” Ariane said, peeling off her gloves and dropping them on the desk.

“How did you find me?” he asked, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, too ashamed to rise.

“Well that is actually quite a tale. Guy thought you had been staying with me, and Harth said you were at the Flight Range. I’ve been trying to find you for four days. Turns out, you startled one of our guests when she stopped in here the other night.”

“Ah...yes...” Gesane said sheepishly, recalling the incident.

“You thought you’d ruined things between us and you didn’t bother to check?” Ariane asked as she stood before him.

“Haven’t I ruined things?” Gesane asked, covering his face.

“I don’t know. Are you in love with Guy?” she asked.

Gesane shook his head.

“When did you last sleep with him?”

“Years ago,” said Gesane, though he hesitated to admit to what an impulsive accident that had been.

“Gesane, I’m...look, I know that your village is small and perhaps Rito don’t feel the same ways about these things as Hylians do. I just wish you’d have told me. It made me feel like you were hiding something, or perhaps you didn’t trust me.”

“My—” Gesane cut himself off with a huff, not knowing how to explain the tangle of feelings that twisted in his chest. How could Ariane understand what was perfectly acceptable among Hylians was treated among Rito at best, as a youthful fling, at worst, an affront to the duties they had been hatched into.

Ariane waited patiently, and Gesane resolved to one day tell her the whole truth.

“Guy was—” Gesane hesitated to even say it for the shame it still filled him with, “—convenient...at a time when we both needed release.”

“That’s a terrible way to treat your friend,” said Ariane.

“I know.”

Goddess, he knew.

“But,” she admitted, “none of us is innocent of stepping on the feelings of others.”

Gesane reached out to take her hand.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” whispered Gesane. “I’m sorry I hurt him, too.”

“I can’t absolve you of what you did to Guy. But I do believe that you are sorry...and I don’t want us to end over something so petty.”

“I don’t want that either,” said Gesane, surprised by the catch in his throat.

“So we move forward?”

Gesane nodded desperately and pulled her close to bury his face in her breast. He felt hear arms wrap around him, her fingers trailing through his feathers as she rested her chin on top of his head.

“My father once told me love is an alliance, a bridge you build between two people that must be in constant repair,” she said. “I’ve never before had such an alliance.”

“Nor I,” agreed Gesane.

“Perhaps we celebrate this bridge repair with a bit of fire?” she suggested, her fingers trailing down his back to tickle just above his tail feathers.

“Goddess, yes,” Gesane breathed, pulling her back onto the bed with him.

**Guy**

The earliest summer warmth had seen the return of the novices and, with the lengthening of the days, Guy began to find his misery subsiding. Gesane was no longer avoiding him as he had been and even Ariane seemed to have warmed to him a little. Ce had even allowed Guy to take Keth to the Flight Range where he had begun training with the other fledglings.

It was with a rather lighter heart that Guy stood on the Flight Range landing, overlooking the novices lined up along the edge of the basin where they presented their bows to Gesane for inspection. Gesane had been present for the last several sessions on Laissa’s suggestion and—though he was still recovering full use of his wings—Guy was relieved to see Gesane finally engaging in something that restored his pride.

“Dismissed,” Gesane called, and the novices took off, pleased to have their freedom for the rest of the pleasant afternoon.

As Keci and the novices disappeared across the lake, Gesane glanced up at Guy before he leapt into the updraft. Guy could see the smile that crossed Gesane’s face almost involuntarily as he circled the range and unslung his bow experimentally, dropping into an archery stance and catching himself halfway down the range. It was more than he could have done only a half-moon ago, and as Gesane set down on the landing, it took everything in Guy not to wrap him in his wings out of happiness for his progress.

“What do you think?” Gesane asked, the usually morose tone undermined by the elated gleam in his eyes.

“Looked good,” Guy told him. “How did it feel?”

“Tough, but better. More tiring than I thought,” Gesane said as they entered the lodge to tidy away the practise equipment.

“I’m certain you’ll be out harassing bokoblins with us soon enough.”

“Laissa has voiced her expectations on that topic.”

“But you don’t have to do anything until you feel ready,” Guy assured him.

“I’m ready to return to some sort of normalcy,” confided Gesane. “I imagine I’ll join you by the next full moon.”

“Don’t push yourself.”

“You don’t need to be such a mother hen,” Gesane said softly.

“I’ll try not to,” Guy promised, wondering if he was as transparent to Gesane as he felt.

“Sorry to interrupt...”

“Hossa,” Gesane greeted him as he entered from the landing, and Guy grew annoyed that Hossa had interrupted...well, nothing, save for the precious few moments that Guy had been so pleasantly alone with Gesane since the night Guy’s heart had shattered beneath his breast.

“Guy, I had hoped to ask a favour of you,” said Hossa, though he glanced between Guy and Gesane as though he realized he had flown in on something.

“I’m to meet Ariane anyway,” said Gesane, and he caught the winds upward with an enthusiasm Guy had never known in him.

“What is it you want of me?” Guy asked Hossa shortly.

“I was hoping...that I might learn archery.”

“I teach lessons nearly every day,” Guy said disinterestedly, arranging the practice arrows so that they would fit in the chest. “I know you’re aware of that, you’ve sat in on many of them.”

“I was injured.”

“You managed to fly across Hyrule on your injured wing.”

“Guy.”

Guy turned, annoyed at the pleading note in Hossa’s tone. The delegate had been getting under his feathers since he arrived, and though Guy might have said he was handsome—perhaps jokingly, _once_ , and only to Gesane—Guy could not bear to be around him.

“I don’t know that I can help you,” Guy told him plainly. “I don’t know why you feel you need private lessons, and I don’t know why you think I am the one to give you them when I’m only keeping the role until Gesane can take it over.”

“You’re very good with the novices,” said Hossa.

As Hossa nipped at one of his primaries, Guy came to understand that this might not be about training at all. Perhaps a distraction from Gesane wouldn’t be such a bad idea anyway...

“I don’t know what you think you know about me,” said Guy carefully, “but if a lesson is all that you want...perhaps I might reconsider my position.”

“I assure you I haven’t heard anything about you,” said Hossa, lifting the swallow bow from the table.

“Do you even know how to hold it?” Guy asked, staring at the unpractised grip as Hossa stepped out onto the landing.

“I did watch many of your lessons.”

“Apparently not very carefully,” said Guy reaching out to adjust Hossa’s grip.

Hossa was a little taller than Guy, his dark green feathers turning to sky blue on his primaries, his eyes a honey-brown that Guy had never bothered to notice before. As Guy’s hand lingered over Hossa’s he swore that those eyes were alight with self-satisfaction. Arrogant bastard.

“Fledglings learn archery in flight,” Guy said as Hossa stared down the sight, drawing the string experimentally.

Guy rifled through the chest for a sling that would fit around Hossa’s broad chest and helped him into it.

“Can you sling and unsling your bow?” Guy asked.

Hossa complied, albeit clumsily and Guy suppressed his smile as he paced to the edge of the landing. Hossa followed, and Guy leapt into the updraft, Hossa determinedly trailing after him.

“The first manoeuvre you learn is essential to aerial combat,” Guy called over the wind, surprised that he was enjoying this. “All you have to do is unsling your bow.”

Guy demonstrated, whipping his swallow bow from his back as he fell into archery stance, before letting his bow fall and catching it in his talons. Hossa attempted the same a few times without success. 

Buffeted by the wind, Hossa asked Guy to show him once more and Guy turned his back to show Hossa what he was doing. A few more attempts and Hossa had it, though he had to scrabble to catch his bow in his talons.

“Not bad,” Guy finally conceded as he and Hossa set down on the landing. “At least you didn’t drop it in the water.”

“Well, I hate having to fetch things,” said Hossa, replacing the bow on the table and shedding the sling.

“It’s growing dark,” Guy commented as he returned to the worn-leather sling to the chest.

“Indeed. Perhaps we ought to return to the village.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“And what it is that you want, Guy?” asked Hossa, a half-smile on his face.

Hossa was teasing him, Guy was sure of it. He wasn’t entirely certain that he liked Hossa, but he hadn’t really liked Keci either when he came to think of it. As Guy stepped a little closer to Hossa, his expression grew a little smug.

“I had heard that was all you wanted,” Hossa said suggestively.

“I thought you hadn’t heard anything about me.”

“I lied,” shrugged Hossa.

“So that is what you’re looking for?”

“No.”

Hossa’s expression was amused rather than hostile, and Guy wasn’t sure what to make of it. Unbalanced, he shook his head and tried to recover himself.

“What...ah...are you really just looking for lessons?” Guy stammered.

“I want to know you better.”

“To what end?”

“I need something a little more...substantial.”

“Keci was certainly more to the point,” Guy lamented.

“I’m...hoping you’ll consent to see me again.”

Guy nodded, “yeah. I think I would.”

Hossa ducked his head a little and smiled, and Guy was irritated to find it endearing.

“Until next time then,” Hossa said, before he leapt into the updraft and rode the winds to their highest point.

**Teba**

It had been a long time since Teba had flown regular night patrols. For so many years they had been a fixture of the warrior experience, but in recent years, with declining numbers of warriors, Teba had opted for a more laissez-faire approach. It had been impossible to hold back the tide of monsters who respawned—particularly when their homes were destroyed—so Teba had made the choice to defend a smaller perimeter, and allow the monsters to live out their lives in the mountains. Now that they remained dead, Teba advised a return to older strategies, and Laissa was quick to agree.

Presently, as Teba stood on Revali’s Landing, the cool night breeze ruffling his feathers, it was difficult not to remember the exhaustion and desperation which had weighed upon him long before he had taken over as First Warrior. 

At the sound of Guy and Gesane’s lowered voices, Teba turned to see them approaching the landing. The torch light caught the apprehension in Gesane’s expression as the two joined Teba. This would be Gesane’s first patrol since his wings had been clipped.

“How are the novices settling into guard duty?” Teba asked them.

“They’re much better with the spear than the bow,” said Guy. “Though perhaps that shouldn’t come as a surprise, given many of them have fished with spears.”

As Guy and Gesane told Teba of the progress they had made with the novices, Raza and Skovo—newly fledged as warriors—arrived on the landing. Mazli and Laissa arrived shortly thereafter, and, finally, Harth joined everyone last. 

Harth always seemed to linger back with Molli, and Saki had told Teba that Harth confessed his worries about making her an orphan. Teba sometimes worried about being left with her as well, though he knew Harth would not now say anything to him about it, damaged as their trust was.

“You have your assignments,” said Laissa.

Guy and Gesane flew south, Harth and Skovo west, and Mazli and Raza east. Teba set out north with Laissa. As they flew in silence together, Teba found he was quite proud of how well she had taken on the challenges of her role.

“You son is well?” Teba asked her.

“Seems to be,” Laissa said. “He’s quite a serious little thing, but he eats well and he sleeps well. And your son?”

“Growing tall,” said Teba. Tulin had gained a great deal of height that spring and seemed only to continue on that course. For all everyone said that Tulin resembled him, as he grew, Teba saw only Saki in his soft blue eyes and gentle features. “And good with the bow, perhaps better even than I was at his age.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” said Laissa.

“Are you certain you want to send Guy and Gesane together?” Teba asked abruptly.

“Why?”

“I’ve seen them fight together. Guy takes unnecessary risks for Gesane.”

“It’s a routine patrol. They’ll take out a few sleeping bokoblins and return home.”

“I’m speaking from experience.”

“Thank you for your advice,” Laissa said, stubbornly closing the matter.

Teba let it go. They weren’t far from their own target and he did not want to risk their mission by causing strife between them; Goddess, knew he had caused enough strife in his relationships of late.

“My duties have been...wearing upon Mazli...upon us,” Laissa confessed.

So often mired in his own problems with Saki, Teba felt there was little he could advise in this realm. At least he had Saki had managed to repair the fissures in their relationship. Teba wanted to reassure Laissa, to tell her that things would look brighter someday soon, but he realized he hesitated too long.

“I’m sorry to have said anything,” she said quickly.

“If you wish to—”

“It’s alright Teba, I just...it’s fine.” 

Ahead of them loomed the colony, rebuilt again and again through the ages, its splintered boards draped in rank animal furs. A lone bokoblin sentry stood watch, its back turned. Laissa silenced it permanently before they had even been spotted. 

Laissa landed quietly in the snow to slit the throats of the three bokoblins who had fallen asleep by their fires. She was cold, and brutal in her efficiency, and Teba was momentarily ashamed that he had not allowed her entry into warrior ranks years earlier. Certainly some of her contemporaries had never been so efficient as she.

Teba landed quietly atop the frost-slicked boards at the top of the structure and ended the moblin that slept there without a moment’s hesitation. He took the spiralling stairs down to the next level to see to the foes there, Laissa’s roan plumage visible between the boards as she crept a level below him. Distracted, his talons caught on a half-frozen bearskin, and the silver moblin that had fallen asleep there leapt to its feet with a mighty bellow.

His mistake was so small, so ordinary, he would have excused it from nearly anyone else, but as he fought the moblin, Teba cursed himself. He dodged the bones on the head of the spear that thrust toward him, his feathered edge in hand. Tall though he was, that long-armed creature outmatched Teba’s reach and Teba could not land a hit.

It was Laissa that came to his aid, burying her feathered edge in the moblin’s spine to bring it to it’s knees before she slashed its throat. As the moblin held its bleeding neck, she stepped aside, her expression inscrutable.

“I would have had it,” said Teba.

“Of course,” Laissa agreed. “Shall we burn this down?”

Teba nodded and they retreated down to the snow-covered ground to where the bokoblin’s fire still burned. Teba took up one of the discarded spears and caught the end aflame, Laissa following his example. Without a word between them they set fire to the tattered fabric and ropes which bound the wooden stairs to the frame. As the flames licked across the dry, aged wood, the two retreated to a safe distance to observe their handiwork.

“I’ve read your old reports,” said Laissa as they stood watching the world light up as the fire grew. “You wrote that burning down the colonies only lead to them rebuilding closer to our lands.”

“That was when they would resurrect,” said Teba. “The awoke in the same places they died and found their homes gone. These ones will stay dead.”

“So long as we never again see the blood moon in the sky,” said Laissa darkly.

“It’s been over half a year. No one can say for certain what the future may bring, but we’ll face it if we must. For now, this is our best plan.”

“I agree,” said Laissa softly, the flames dancing in her eyes as she admired her handiwork.

Standing with Laissa, Teba found he missed Harth’s ceaseless argumentation. Laissa was the Rito for the role of First Warrior, of that Teba had no doubt, but when he fought, he missed Harth’s hot-headed banter, his disagreeableness. Teba worried that the void between them would never close.

“I apologize for the state in which you inherited these duties,” said Teba.

“You have nothing for which to apologize.”

“Regardless,” said Teba, though he still felt he had left a mess for Laissa, “you needn’t worry about rebuilding the warriors on your own. I will be here if ever your are in need of me.”

Laissa nodded her thanks, and together they watched the structure collapse in on itself, the spray of glowing cinders dancing off into the night.

**Kass**

Kass saw his daughters off to the Flight Range every day in the summer, watching as they set out over the lake until they disappeared into the grim north. They never complained of the cold as he did, except for Cree, whom he and Amali had finally allowed to be exempt from the rigorous training, provided she apprenticed with Saki as a healer.

Since he had returned from the island, Kass’s heart had been heavy and he seemed unable to a day without thinking of Tyth. Kass was not wrong to leave him behind, of that he was sure, but the journey has left Kass in a pattern of thought that seemed always to lead back to his own parents. So often he looked at Genli and wondered if the green of her feathers were those of Amali or of his own father. Sometimes in the beautiful colours of Notts, Kotts and Khedli, he saw the iridescent hints of his mother’s bright plumage.

Summer flew by for Kass in the tedium of routine. Amali continued to be short with him, and he found himself avoiding her so they wouldn’t fight (and then fighting because he was avoiding her). Whatever she felt, she didn’t seem prepared to share it with Kass, and Kass didn’t have the heart to try and find it.

So, feeling just as alone as he had felt on that journey for Olin, Kass stood by the shrine and composed, thinking of the long years he had lived in Kakariko Village. He wondered if he would be welcomed back.

“You spend a great deal of time out here,” came Teba’s deep voice as Kass stared out across the lake.

“What can I help you with, Teba?” Kass asked dutifully.

“The novice Tal has made a proposal to Raza,” said Teba.

“Today? I’ll record it when I return home for the night.”

“They wish to marry today.”

“That’s quite fast,” said Kass.

“She said that she wished to do so when her mother and father might be here to see it,” said Teba.

It dawned upon Kass that this was Teba asking to be released from his duties. Kass stared at him a moment, surprised that given how few marriages there seemed to be these days that Teba could not seem to bring himself to stand through a short ceremony.

“I see...you want me to bear witness to their union,” Kass sighed, putting away his accordion.

“If you could.”

“I’ll go if you accompany me,” Kass bargained.

“That defeats the purpose of sending you in the first place,” said Teba flatly.

“It is well within my rights to refuse,” said Kass.

“Fine,” Teba grumbled, and the two set out down the boardwalk together.

As they passed the shops, Kass glanced toward the Brazen Beak and saw Nekk glaring back out at him. The clothier had never been a friend to him, though Kass had felt the currents of hostility ever since the islanders set down on Revali’s Landing.

“Have things calmed on that front?” Kass asked quietly, glancing toward the shops.

“Hard to say,” said Teba. “I’ve heard nothing since...since Harth was punished.

Kass had noticed that weighing on Teba too, though he had no advice to offer. Harth seemed determined to keep a wingspan between himself and Teba, and an even greater distance from Kass.

As they made their way to the foot of the village, Raza and Tal awaited them by the stone Goddess, their parents and friends gathered around them. As they made their vows to one another Kass was struck by the beauty of it. Raza stood tall and proud, his dark brown plumage shining warmly in the afternoon sun as he clasped Tal’s grey wings in his. Tal wore her leather cuirass and sash in the style of Northern Rito, and it was clear that she intended to stay.

“Cheer up,” Kass told Teba. “This is what we hoped for.”

“I dislike weddings.”

Kass exhaled in a soft laugh at how unbearably like Teba this was. He could have hardly imagined that he would have ever grown to enjoy his company.

“This is exactly what we were talking about.”

At the sound of the grumbling behind them, Teba and Kass turned to find Nekk and Huck standing on the stairs.

“Do you have need of something?” Teba asked them coldly.

“This is a disgrace,” said Huck.

“This again?” Teba sighed.

“Huck, it’s none of our business if they want to have ugly children,” said Nekk, eyeing Kass.

It suddenly grew very clear to Kass why Harth had cracked Nekk’s beak that fateful day. Though Kass had never been given to such outbursts, he felt Teba bristle beside him.

“Enough of your filth,” said Teba, and Kass was surprised by how level his voice remained. “If you need to pass this way I suggest you take the landing and fly.”

“Figures you would be on their side,” said Huck. “Your wife doesn’t belong here any more than they do. And you never did,” said Huck staring pointedly at Kass.

“That’s enough, Huck,” said Nekk. “They’ll figure out their mistake soon enough.”

As the two retreated up the boardwalk, Kass was surprised to feel Teba’s wing on his. It took a moment for him to realize he was shaking.

“Teba...I no longer feel my family is safe.”

“They’re trying to make you leave,” Teba told him. “They don’t want any actual conflict, the warriors are on our side.”

“Are they?” Kass asked breathlessly as Teba prodded him up the boardwalk.

“There isn’t one among them who hasn’t been tormented by Nekk and Huck,” said Teba. “They will slip up sooner or later.”

“I thought you said this had died down...”

“What would it take to reinstate wing-clipping as a viable punishment?” Teba asked Kass quietly.

“Teba, no,” said Kass. “You promised us, you promised _Gesane_. How can you go back on that after what happened last summer?”

“With...unbearable regret,” said Teba. “They fear nothing, and fear was the only thing which kept them in line.”

“They fear their way of life being taken from them,” said Kass bitterly. “Only they’re too foolish to see that no one is paying them any mind.”

“I’m very serious about the wing-clipping,” Teba said beneath his breath.

“You will lose all support,” said Kass. “You can’t do it without a village meeting, not without being accused of the kind of deception that Kaneli was.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” Teba said, pressing at a tense spot on his neck.

“Not this. Anything but this.”

“You’ve always given me sage advice—”

“For all you’ve listened,” Kass scoffed.

“I’m asking for your wisdom. Advise me.”

Teba’s eyes were desperate, marooned alone on that isle of leadership. Kass had never denied him help before, and wanted so desperately to reach out to his rescue now. He wasn’t certain that Teba could be rescued.

“Keep to your principles,” said Kass finally. “Then if you’re ousted, at least you won’t live in regret.”


	13. Autumn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that there have been content warnings added to the list located at end of the fic. And keep an eye on the tags over the next few chapters.

**Guy**

Summer had burned away in long days and nights of hunting down monsters with his fellow warriors. The smoke and ash from the colonies they set aflame settled into Guy’s clothes and feathers nearly as much as his soul. He knew the stories of the year he and Gesane had hatched, that the Rito had lost their fish and game to the monsters that multiplied in the mountains and went unchecked through the summer. Harth swore he could still remember eating murky stews of bokoblin organs that left him with nightmares from the malice. Though Guy knew what they were doing was right and necessary, he didn’t have to like it.

“I’m going home,” Mazli told him that evening after a particularly gruelling flyover.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stop at the Flight Range?” Guy pressed, concerned how Mazli weaved in flight.

“I need to get this blood off me,” Mazli said, glancing down at the black ooze from the lizalfos they had faced. “I don’t want my son to see it.”

“He’s too young to know what it is, Mazli.”

“But _I_ know.”

With that, Mazli set out back to the village, and Guy circled down to the Flight Range to return the spare blade he had borrowed. Better to take his time and make sure that he would not be interrupting Gesane and Ariane anyway, he thought. Though their relationships had grown less strained, Guy still was hesitant to test those tentative threads.

As he finally set down on the landing, the ache in his shoulders hit him with full force and he was convinced that we would be bound to stay for the night.

“Guy!”

“Hossa, what are you doing here?” Guy asked, startled to find anyone else in the lodge. “You don’t want a lesson at this late hour?”

“No. Are you alright?”

“Nothing that a night’s rest won’t cure,” lied Guy. “But what _are_ you doing here? Not waiting for me, surely?”

As Guy stared entered the lodge, he could smell the inviting smoke of wood fire and the searing skewers that Hossa had put on. Hossa had met him here plenty of times through the summer—usually for lessons—but this was new.

“The curtains were drawn on Gesane’s roost. I assumed you to be on a flyover—rightly, I see,” Hossa said, watching as Guy struggled with the weapons belt.

“If I’m not here or asleep, I am almost invariably on a flyover,” Guy agreed, his benumbed wings struggling to unfasten the belt.

“Let, me,” said Hossa.

Guy didn’t draw back as Hossa reached in to help him, though he felt his heart race to have those beautiful green and blue wings taking the belt from around his waist. In his exhaustion, he found he couldn't even be annoyed about it.

“Do you need help off with the rest of your weapons?” Hossa asked.

Guy nodded, barely able to lift his leaden wings. 

“What happened out there?” Hossa asked as he carefully took Guy’s bow and quiver.

“We fought lizalfos,” said Guy, struggling even to remember his day through the haze of fatigue. “It wasn’t anything outside of the usual course...but perhaps the usual course is the problem.”

“How is that?” Hossa asked, turning the meat skewers in the cooking pot.

“We’re far too few. We can’t keep up this pace, though we know we must. I’m not even certain we’ve made a difference. Winter will come...and Goddess I hope we don’t starve.”

As Guy’s voice wavered, Hossa reached out and took his hand.

“Come sit,” he insisted drawing Guy down beside the pot with him.

Guy felt ready to weep with the desperation of the situation the Rito found themselves in. His father had sometimes spoken of terrible times like these, how the warriors had fought and fought against a horde of monsters to no avail. At least now they stayed dead, Guy thought bitterly.

“Eat,” Hossa insisted. “The world is never so grim as when you are hungry and tired.”

“Why are you doing this?” Guy asked as Hossa handed him a skewer.

“I should think that should be obvious.”

“You islanders are not exactly coy, are you?”

“Why waste time? There’s precious little of it.”

“So this is what you want then?” Guy asked as he ate. “Some...northern lover to brag about?”

“If you think I wish to have you for bragging purposes, you’ve fundamentally misunderstood who I am.”

“What then?” asked Guy, far too tired to navigate ambiguity.

“I find you...attractive.”

“You... _know_ me, right?” Guy asked, fighting not to laugh at the strange giddiness that filled him at Hossa’s blunt confession.

“Better than you seem to think I do,” said Hossa.

“I’ve been trying not to...entangle myself,” Guy said carefully.

“I know,” said Hossa. “I’m patient.”

“Fuck it, I’m not,” said Guy, reaching up his tired wings to grasp Hossa’s aggravatingly handsome face and touch their beaks together.

“I don’t want you to do this and then cast me aside,” protested Hossa, though his broad wings wrapped around Guy’s torso and pulled him close.

“You do know me,” said Guy, though he didn’t stop his beak trailing down Hossa’s neck.

“I’m very serious,” said Hossa pushing him back. “I can’t do this with you if you you only intend to use me.”

“It’s never my intention to do that with anyone.”

“Yet that’s all I’ve seen you do.”

“Then why would you bother with me?”

“You say that as though I’m in command of my heart,” Hossa laughed.

Guy stared at that beautiful face, and thought he saw something waver beneath that self-assurance. There was a certain nobility in exposing oneself so badly, Guy thought.

“I’ve never...cared for anyone...anyone except Gesane,” Guy admitted, and it felt like a weight had been lifted to finally say it.

“And I’ve seen that too,” Hossa told him seriously.

“It begs the question why you would...do all this for me?”

“We can’t help who we care for.”

“Hossa if it...” Guy cleared his throat and tried again. “I’ve been trying to move on from Gesane, and I can’t really say what the future holds but...I would try. For you.”

“When was the last time you told someone that?” Hossa asked.

“Never,” Guy said honestly.

“Trust is a fragile thing,” mused Hossa, his primaries tickling the side of Guy’s face with their gentleness. “But it can’t be built without risk.”

“I’m willing to take the risk if you are,” said Guy.

“And what’s life without risk?” Hossa acquiesced, before once more pulling Guy close.

Their clothes fell away—mostly with Hossa’s help—and they fumbled their way into the lower hammock. As Hossa drew him near, Guy could not recall ever having made love with such gentleness, and rested his forehead against Hossa’s as they moved together.

Afterwards, as they lay in the hammock, Hossa wrapped Guy in his wings and rested his beak on the top of his head. Guy could not remember the last time he had been held like this, and the unbearable tenderness of it nearly made him weep. He could not remember the last time he had felt so safe.

“I meant to tell you before, but you were somewhat distracting,” began Hossa, his wing trailing down Guy’s side to rest on his hip. “Soni and I are going back to the islands to recruit more novices.”

“We can’t spare any warriors to assess them,” Guy pointed out.

“Keci is going to assess them as best she can.”

“So,” breathed Guy. “I am to sit here and await your return while you take the only person who can keep the novices in line and return with...more novices for me to train...”

“That sounds accurate,” said Hossa.

“When do you leave?” Guy sighed.

“Two days.”

“I hadn’t really expected to have to break in more novices so soon.”

“You have Gesane to help now.”

“Well, you’re not much help,” said Guy, shifting to his back to bump his beak once more to Hossa’s, his eyes closing against his will as his head fell heavily back on Hossa’s wing.

“You should probably sleep,” said Hossa, and Guy felt him straightening his braids.

“It’s a pity you’re going so soon,” said Guy sleepily. “I would have liked another few nights like this.”

As Hossa traced over the ruffled feathers on Guy’s face, he drifted beneath the delicate touch.

“When was the last time you let someone care for you?”

“I can’t recall,” mumbled Guy, though he wasn’t sure he ever had; he usually took that responsibility upon himself. “I don’t know that I’m ready to...”

Hossa’s beak nuzzled gently into Guy’s feathers, shifting his braid. When he spoke, his voice buzzed pleasantly against Guy’s neck.

“You’ll have at least a moon’s turn to think about it.”

**Saki**

It had been a bit too late for ‘perhaps they ought to have been a little more careful’ by the time that it crossed Saki’s mind.

It was a grey afternoon, the gentlest of rains beating away on the wooden shingles of the roost as Saki instructed Cree on which herbs to crush together for a salve. Cree worked diligently with the mortar and pestle, eager to prove herself whenever Saki gave her the chance. She had confided in Saki that she was relieved not to have to be at the Flight Range with her sisters and Tulin.

“Not everyone is meant to wield a bow,” Saki told her. “Though we pride ourselves on our warriors, healers and merchants and builders and hunters are just as important.”

“I do like this better,” agreed Cree. “I’d rather help people than hurt monsters.”

It caught up with Saki then, the lousiness she had felt all day, the bone-tiredness of the last two. It was the unmistakable feeling of a hard mass shifting inside of her that brought her to her knees. Cree jumped up, her eyes wide in alarm at Saki’s pained expression.

“It’s alright, Cree,” Saki said, clenching her beak. “Harth should be home, tell him I need him then go get your mother.”

Cree hesitated.

“Quickly, please!”

With that, Cree left the roost as fast as she could run. Saki squatted against the back railing of the roost and tugged a blanket down from the shelf. She dropped it almost immediately, overcome once more by that agonizing pressure. Recovering herself, she managed to coil it into a little nest beneath her and tried to focus on her breathing.

As Saki drew in steady breaths, she could hear someone barrelling up the stairs. Harth arrived, tiny curls of wood shavings stuck along his wings as a testament to an afternoon spent on his craft. Seeing Saki’s distress, he was immediately by her side, talons clattering through the roost as he went.

“Saki, what’s wrong?” Harth asked, his voice laced with panic.

“It’s an egg. Go get Teba,” Saki managed.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he said, offering a wing which she gratefully squeezed.

“Amali will be here.”

“I’ll stay until she is,” Harth told her firmly.

“Teba’s going to miss it again! I swear he does this on purpose!” Saki cried, leaning forward into Harth’s wings.

“It’s alright, just breathe,” said Harth as she pressed her forehead to his shoulder. “He’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”

“ _You’re_ supposed to get him!” Saki told him through her clenched beak.

“Amali’s at the Flight Range,” he told her calmly as he rubbed her back. “Cree went to get Kass to fly with her.”

Saki could barely listen over the pain; this was happening fast. She squeezed Harth’s thigh hard as he soothed her, and she wondered idly why she couldn’t remember this ever hurting so much before.

“It’s alright, you’re doing well,” Harth told her calmly when she couldn’t hold back a pained trill.

“What do you know about it?” Saki hissed.

“I was with Antilli for every one of ours,” Harth said, the quiet in his tone undermining his assurance.

Goddess, that was the last time he had spent with his wife—as she had lain egg-bound, half-lucid on pain tonic for nearly a moon’s turn and he had prayed for the egg to shift. She shouldn’t think about this now, about the things that went wrong. Saki hoped Harth wasn’t either.

“You don’t need to stay,” Saki managed.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Saki couldn’t hold back a cry as she fought through that wave of pain, Harth’s hands on her shoulders, holding her steady.

“No,” Saki fairly wept, nearly sick from the discomfort.

“Alright, I’m here,” Harth told her, kindly ignoring the grip she had on both of his thighs as he held her steady.

“Goddess, it’s coming now,” Saki breathed, crouching lower.

“Let it happen. Teba will be here soon.”

“Stop talking, Harth.”

Whether or not Harth managed to shut his beak, Saki could no longer tell for the pain that overwhelmed her senses. She squeezed him bruisingly hard through that last stretch, giving into what nature wanted of her.

Saki hardly realized it was over until she leaned forward once more, shaking in Harth’s wings.

“You did it!” Harth murmured into her hair.

She rested like that for a while, exhausted, egg nestled in the blanket between her knees as Harth held her.

“Saki!” came Teba’s panicked shout.

Harth stood aside that Teba might take up his spot, and Saki reached her wings up around Teba’s neck. As Saki leaned into his wings, she heard Harth dismissing everyone who had been collected along Cree’s journey from the doorway.

“You missed it again,” Saki whispered, as Teba stared down between them at their egg.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, burying his beak in her hair. “How did this happen?”

“I didn’t think I needed to explain it at this late stage in our marriage,” said Saki dryly.

“We were being careful,” he said in dismay.

“Not careful enough.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” Teba apologized once more, pulling her close as they both knelt awkwardly over the egg.

“Harth was very helpful,” Saki told him pointedly, hoping this might smooth out some of the tension between the two.

“Harth—” Teba began tentatively.

“I can cover your flyover this evening,” Harth said standoffishly.

As Harth spoke to Teba, Saki was taken aback by the change in him now that Teba was present. It seemed forgiveness would not come easily.

“I wasn’t going to—”

“Look, Teba, this isn’t about you. I was here for Saki.”

“Harth,” said Saki, reaching a wing to him which he reluctantly took. “I’m very grateful that you were here.”

“I’ll see if Amali and Kass can take Molli for tonight,” said Harth. “Give you time with your family.”

“You don’t have to do that. You and Molli are as family to us,” Saki assured him.

“You should have this night,” said Harth, before his abrupt departure.

“Saki, you should lie down,” said Teba, unfastening his cuirass. “I can brood.”

“Are you sure you don’t just want to leave it to get cold?” Saki asked, the thought crossing her mind for the first time.

“No, of course not.”

“I mean...do we really want another one?”

“If you’re worried I won’t be here—”

“Teba, I’ve worried about being left alone from the moment we married. I know what it is to be a warrior, and what it means to you. I understand that you have to fly with with the warriors right now for our survival...it seems such a bad time for this, can you really manage this with all of your responsibilities?”

“Yes,” said Teba, holding her face and gently stroking her cheek. “I promise you won’t be left alone in this. Just rest, I can manage.”

“Alright,” Saki agreed, standing with a wing on Teba’s shoulder for support. “You can also take the opportunity to explain how this happened when Tulin inevitably asks.”

**Mimo**

Mimo had seen the monsters growing in the world all through the summer. As he flew from stable to stable with post for the settlements, he heard talk around cooking fires of the losses travellers had suffered on the roads. Villages guarded their gates and built walls for safety, stables hired guards and some roped together trees into partial palisades. Mimo had spent nearly all of his adult life travelling between these familiar hubs, and never before had he known such fear.

The sky felt safe for Mimo. He dodged projectiles from below with ease and kept to daytime flights to avoid the keese that swarmed like clouds of swamp insects. Failing that, he was proficient enough with his swallow bow that he could usually injure his enemies to have time to escape. He was confident that he would be fine. Until he wasn’t.

Mimo hated to return to Rito territory, still uneasy about how he had left things with Guy. Nevertheless, he had been sent out from Hateno with notices for the stables, and found himself flying that bitter cold trail between Snowfield Stable and Rito Stable. 

The weather had been foul the last few days in that cold, northern expanse. The snow swirled up violently, obscuring his vision and blowing him off course, so Mimo opted to fly a little lower than usual. He might have reflected later that this was his fatal mistake.

Below, the ruins of Tabantha Village were overrun with monsters. Mimo beat his wing in an attempt to climb, but the bomb arrows that exploded around him alerted him that he had already been seen. He thought to unsling his bow, until he saw how outnumbered he was. There wasn’t much time to react as a moblin lashed out at him, rusty halberd grazing his thigh.

Relying only on instinct, Mimo fled.

Mimo grimaced at the hot sting of blood, but he glided down the road trying to block out the sound of the bomb arrows which continued after him. As he reached the decline where the snow thinned, he grew dizzy and ill as he fell from the sky, only barely catching himself on the road.

Aching and disoriented, Mimo sat in the cold, compacted dirt, unable to move, save to lean forward and retch. He glanced at his burning thigh and could feel the slickness of blood where it had run down through his feathers. As he pressed his wing over it to slow the bleeding, he could barely stand the pain of deep wound.

“Oh no,” Mimo whispered to himself, feeling the tears burning at his eyes. “Oh shit.”

The monsters would smell him, the metallic tang on the air would draw them right to where he sat, too unsteady from blood loss to rise. Failing that, Mimo was sure he would bleed out, his vision already growing dark around the edges. He thought perhaps he might prefer that, but once his body was dragged away and eaten, there would be nothing to alert his countrymen—to alert Guy—of his demise.

“You got over my death once,” Mimo breathed, falling back on his elbow. “You can do it again.”

“ _Rito!_ ” came a shout on the air, and Mimo’s eyes snapped open at the accompanying hoof-beats.

“Hylian,” slurred Mimo as the burly man he sometimes saw at Rito stable dismounted beside him.

“What happened?”

Mimo moved his wing and the Hylian drew in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth. He knew that unshaven face... _Ponthos_ , Mimo finally recalled his name.

“You’re not far from home,” Ponthos said, pulling something from his bedroll and pressing it over the wound. 

Mimo flinched hard at the pressure as Ponthos tied the sheet around his leg. As Ponthos wrapped an arm around his back and slid the other beneath his legs, Mimo did not even have the wherewithal to protest.

“I hate these beasts,” Mimo said, his breath escaping him in protest as Ponthos lifted him onto the horse. 

“Well,” grunted Ponthos as he mounted behind Mimo, “this beast will bear you to the stable.”

Mimo’s vision was going spotty again as he slumped back against Ponthos.

“Tell Guy...” he managed before it all went dark.

The world came back in distant sounds and muffled voices. Mimo swallowed, fighting hard against the hand upon his cheek before the sharp pain in his leg hit him.

“Mimo it’s alright! Don’t scream, you’re alright!”

It took a moment to come up through the haze, to realize the screech was from him and under his control. He felt the straw mattress beneath him, saw the ginger-haired stable master keeping his wound staunched. He saw the hands holding his face were Ariane’s and he nearly recoiled, recalling their last meeting.

“Get Guy, please,” Mimo begged, his voice catching pathetically. “If I’m to die I need to speak to him!”

“He’s been sent for,” Ariane told him.

“Oh, Goddess,” Mimo gulped, trying his best not to weep.

“Your not dying,” Ariane said flatly, though the glance she shared with the stable master hardly convinced Mimo.

Saki arrived first, her waist wrapped. Mimo wondered whether she had been injured or was brooding. As she peeled back the sodden sheet that dressed the wound, Mimo’s stomach revolted, and he would have been sick on Ariane if he had anything left in him. Instead, he squeezed her arm and wiped at his burning eyes.

“Where’s my brother?” Mimo gasped.

“Guy’s coming,” Ariane promised him.

“I need more light,” called Saki. “It’s too difficult to see through his dark feathers.”

As the stable master brought a lantern near, Mimo winced at Saki’s hands upon him and held fast to Ariane.

“This needs stitching,” said Saki, her voice low. “Ariane, please get Mimo a drink of water.”

“I don’t need water,” Mimo protested, as Ariane let him go.

“I’m not working on you without something for the pain,” said Saki, digging through her bag for a phial.

Saki put a few drops in the glazed cup that Ariane returned with, and put a wing behind Mimo’s back.

“Drink this all,” Saki said as she helped him sit up.

Mimo did as he was bidden, but fell back once more as the dark spots began to overtake his vision. He fought to breathe, a terrible crushing weight pressing on his chest as his mind seemed to drift away. 

The world grew foggy and distant as Mimo stared up at canopy, listening as Saki directed Ariane to help her. It felt like seconds had passed. It felt like a day had passed. All the while Mimo’s heart fluttered uncomfortably beneath his breast and he fiddled with the coarse stable blanket.

“Mimo,” he finally heard the familiar voice.

“Guy,” Mimo all but sobbed as Guy took his wing. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Guy told him steadily, stroking Mimo’s crest as Mimo struggled to catch his breath.

“Mimo, if you need to close your eyes, it’s alright,” Saki said.

The pain tonic had taken away the sting of the air on his wound, but as he saw Saki threading her curved needle, panic rose once more in his chest and he clutched desperately at Guy as he wept.

“Don’t let her do it!” he begged, grasping at Guy’s clothes.

“Mimo, it’s alright,” Guy said, giving in to Mimo’s attempts to draw him near and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Mimo buried his face in Guy’s thigh and felt the wing on the back of his head trying to calm him.

“Saki, did you give him something?” Guy asked, his voice a little higher than usual.

“It’s the pain tonic,” said Saki flatly. “I’ve had to substitute ingredients...it should have made him sleep.”

“I think it may have done the opposite.”

“It should still take the pain away.”

“Mimo, how’s your leg?” Guy asked gently, still stroking back his crest as Mimo clung to him.

“I don’t feel it anymore,” Mimo said into the bed linens.

“Saki needs to fix it,” Guy told him. “You can hold onto me the whole time. I won’t go anywhere.”

Mimo didn’t look up, too afraid of what he might see of the procedure, but as Saki lay a steadying wing near the injury, the pain rushed back and Mimo screeched. His heart hammered beneath his breast and he felt so wildly out of control as he wrapped his wings around Guy.

“It’s alright, just stay still,” Guy said, and Mimo felt Guy’s wings cover his to hold him in place.

As Saki proceeded, Mimo tried his best not to move, but felt Hylian hands pinning him down when he couldn’t lie still. He was surrounded, suffocating, holding onto Guy for dear life. He could hear himself rambling, but he wasn’t sure what he was saying, the words not quite making it to his hazy hearing.

“Of course you are, no one is saying otherwise,” said Guy, responding with his usual kindness to Mimo’s ranting.

“Is it over?” Mimo asked as he felt the hands let him go.

“Shh, yes, it’s done,” said Guy, wings still around Mimo. “You should lie back and rest.”

“Don’t leave me!”

“I’m not. I’ll stay as long as I can.”

“She should have just been a mother to me!”

“I know,” said Guy, his voice lowered. “We don’t have to talk about her right now.”

As Mimo heard himself say aloud what he had always secretly hoped for from Khedli, he recalled the contents of his rant: begging Guy to protect him as when they were children, swearing that Guy was his brother, over and over. Even in his tonic-clouded mind, Mimo was beginning to grow embarrassed for exposing himself so badly.

Mimo pulled back sharply from Guy, half-wishing he had died on the road. As Guy gently stroked Mimo’s cheek with the back of his wing, Mimo flinched away, suddenly wanting nothing to do with him. Guy’s saddened expression reached Mimo even in his muddled state. But Guy had known Mimo for too long not to have expected this, surely.

Guy stood and let out the curtains on the far side of the bed, cutting some of the light and protecting Mimo from the staring eyes in the stable. Overwhelmed by the texture of heavy wool, Mimo hands clenched and released the blankets beneath him, and he watched as Guy sat down on a stool next to the bed.

“You don’t need to stay.”

“Someone needs to stay with you until you come down,” said Guy calmly.

Guy rested his wing on the bed and Mimo grasped that russet lifeline and held fast. Guy seemed to take this as an invitation, and Mimo once more felt Guy’s hand on the side of his face. Mimo’s insides coiled at the unbearable gentleness.

“Where’ve you been?” Guy asked.

“Working.”

“I’m sorry that you feel you can’t come home. I’ll have my own roost soon and you can stay with me if you want.”

“You don’t need to do that for me,” said Mimo, closing his eyes.

“As you say, you’re my brother.”

“Said under the influence of bad pain reliever,” Mimo whispered, the world slipping away around him. Perhaps now that dratted elixir had begun to work...

“Rest if you need to...”

When Mimo came to, the stable was dim and night had fallen. His leg throbbed as the pain returned, but the gentle wings that held his hand and stroked back his crest were no longer upon him.

Guy had left. In his stead, Gesane said stoically beside him and Mimo wondered what Guy had offered to get him to do something he so clearly detested. Mimo gasped as he moved, catching Gesane’s attention.

“Has the pain returned?” Gesane asked.

“Where’s Guy?”

“He had a flyover. Saki said you can’t have any more pain reliever after how you reacted.”

“That’s fine,” Mimo grimaced. “I’ll sleep it off.”

Gesane said nothing, though he remained seated at the bedside. Mimo closed his eyes once more, though he found it difficult to sleep without Guy watching over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> Lately I've been spending a lot of time writing Guy and Gesane oneshots (for the newer readers, you can find the oneshots at the end of this series posted in the order they were written rather than chronological order). I've also started writing some E-rated material for _Rito Chronicles_ and posting it under my alternate pseud, UnmaskedCardinal (yeah, I was surprised too).
> 
> Also, this thing is getting much larger than I originally thought (said every fic writer ever)...I thought I would have this wrapped up by this point. So I'm splitting it into two fics so I can have a little break in between to finish re-writing _Age of Intolerance_...and my top-secret surprise ^^
> 
> Anyway...that's what's new with this monstrosity that I call my collection of fics. Stay well <3


	14. Fragments

**Laissa**

The autumn afternoon was dark, the rain over Lake Totori turning to snow as Laissa crossed into the severe cold of the Hebra foothills. It was afternoon, but the leaden sky blotted out the light so completely, it seemed nearly as dark as night. Laissa circled and set down on the on the Flight Range landing.

“Where’s Guy?” Laissa asked as she found Mazli emerging from the lodge.

“We swapped. He needed to go with Gesane,” said Mazli.

“What do you mean by _needed to_?” Laissa asked, irritated.

“He said he needed to speak with him,” shrugged Mazli, adjusting his quiver.

“And all parties involved were fully aware that such an arrangement pairs the two of us together on this flyover?” Laissa pressed, her voice taught with annoyance.

“Nothing’s going to happen, Liss.”

“It’s not even about that at this point,” she snapped. “You both know that I need to be told about these things in advance. Between you and Guy swapping and Harth taking over Teba’s patrols whenever the fancy strikes them, how the hell am I supposed to know who’s out int the field?”

“It won’t happen again,” said Mazli, that cold note of duty entering his voice and ratcheting open that growing wound between them.

“Good,” Laissa said finally. She was not about to apologize for performing her duties in the face of such blatant disregard for her leadership. Not even to her husband.

Mazli remained quiet as they set out. Unusual for him, she might have thought only in the spring, but the summer had changed him. The long days of chasing down monsters had darkened his spirits and left him worried for Fyrza at all times. It didn’t help matters that they had hardly seen each other for all the time they spent clearing colonies in hopes that it was enough to get them through the winter.

“The hunters say they are expecting a lean season,” said Laissa finally to break the tension. “But that’s better than a season of starvation.”

“Then at least this misery has served a purpose,” sighed Mazli.

“If some of the novices settle here and fledge, we might very well be able to ease up on these flyovers. Guy and Gesane reported that they all were all blooded successfully.”

“Can we talk about anything else?” asked Mazli shortly.

Try though the might, Laissa couldn’t seem to find anything else to say. Her entire world with Mazli had shrunk down to reports of monster activity and the well being of their son. When she returned to their roost late, he was often already asleep, Fyrza sleeping upon his breast. Mazli would find much the same on those nights that he had late patrol.

“What do you wish to talk about?” Laissa asked finally, at a loss.

“I hoped you had something.”

“You haven’t even heard anything of interest? Not even from your mother?”

“It all seems to bleed together,” said Mazli. “Nekk and Huck are being vents, but that’s hardly news. Saki and Teba are brooding, but you must have heard that from Teba. And Guy is in love with that Tropical delegate.”

“ _That_ I hadn’t heard,” said Laissa.

“He can barely keep it to himself. It’s why he wanted to fly out with Gesane; he hasn’t told him yet.”

“What I wouldn’t give to be a mite on a feather to hear that conversation.”

Mazli laughed, and seeing the brightness in his expression lightened Laissa’s heart. She had missed that smile, she had even missed the incessant gossip.

Below them, the rebuilt colony loomed, the burned wood and singed furs of the warriors’ previous attempts to destroy it, salvaged into the remaking of the precarious structure. The wind blew in their favour as Laissa and Mazli circled above, and Laissa gestured to the salvaged explosives that sat stacked below the colony.

Mazli nodded and nocked a bomb arrow, prepared to make them pay for such a foolish error. The bowstring twanged and the world was alight. Moblins and bokoblins alike screeched as their bristly flesh burned in the explosion, and their pained howls rent the air.

Laissa dived, taking several flailing creatures on the ground in one pass. The smell of burning flesh hung about her, as enticing as it was sickening. She heard Mazli’s signal and spiralled back up toward him. He took out the moblin at the top of the burning colony, and she headed for the beast on the lower level. Between them, the structure was soon cleared, and Laissa landed in the snow to survey the damage.

“Easier than I thought it would be,” panted Mazli, snow crunched beneath his talons as he set down beside her.

In the flickering light from the burning colony, Laissa could see all the imperfections of Mazli’s face: the tiny scar near his eye where the feathers never grew back, the crookedness of his beak that never quite healed properly as the crack grew out. She thought he had never looked so handsome.

“You were very good,” Laissa told him, catching the side of his cuirass.

“You’re just saying that because your blood’s up from battle,” said Mazli, not hesitating to follow the direction in which she tugged him.

Laissa caught his face in her wings and nudged that endearingly crooked beak with her own. It had been a long time, but she knew what she had set off in that moment, neither of them bothering to fumble with cuirasses as she dragged Mazli down into the snow with her. She pushed up his sash, the crust of snow breaking up beneath them as he pulled her close.

“Goddess, I’ve missed you,” he whispered as their bodies aligned.

“I’ve missed you too,” she gasped. 

The colony creaked and folded in on itself, sending smoke and sparks into the overcast sky, the acrid smells of death and smoke enfolding them in their stolen moment of bliss.

**Mimo**

At the sound of talons on the floorboards of Gesane’s roost, Mimo opened his eyes, rousing himself from the achy slumber he had fallen into. Within a day of his injury, the wound on his leg had grown hot and slightly swollen, and even now it still throbbed along with his lifebeat. He had lain feverish for days in Gesane’s hammock, Guy fretting over him and Gesane sitting quietly, conditioning his weapons nearby when Guy could not be there. 

As he saw the golden light of the afternoon strike Gesane’s feathers, he pushed himself up on his elbows, preparing to move from the hammock.

“Mimo, it’s alright for you to stay; you’ve been injured,” Gesane said.

“So it’s only alright if I’m not at my best?” Mimo snapped.

He had been feeling better since the fever broke, but Saki had come to remove the stitches and cleanse the wound earlier that day, and Mimo’s leg had been left smarting. She had offered more pain reliever, but after his last reaction, Mimo had sworn off the stuff, fearing what he might reveal in that horrible sense of doom that overtook him when he was under its influence. For now, he reclined in Gesane’s hammock.

“I don’t mind sleeping at the stable,” Gesane told him.

Mimo could hardly believe that Gesane was being so kind. Perhaps it had something to do with the desolate rants that had spilled from his beak when Gesane had taken over Guy’s seat beside him the night of his injury, though Mimo prayed those had been a dream. Certainly something had changed.

“Did you forget something?” Mimo asked as Gesane examined a stoppered bottle from the side table.

“Guy sent me to help with your bandages.”

“I’ll wait for Guy.”

“He’s not coming,” said Gesane as he stood by the side of the hammock.

“I can do it,” Mimo insisted, suppressing a wince as he shifted his legs over the edge of the hammock.

As his feet touched ground, Mimo struggled not to let his shaking leg collapse beneath him, but he could not bat away the helpful wing that Gesane proffered. He let Gesane help him to a low stool and stubbornly unwound the bandage on his own, trying not to look at the stains that had soaked into the dressing. Mimo dropped the soiled bandages into the basin and Gesane said nothing as he handed him the bottle of spirits.

“ _Oh, Goddess_ ,” Mimo hissed as he dabbed at the wound.

Gesane looked as though he wanted to say something, but thought better of it, offering Mimo only the supplies he asked for. By the time Mimo had finished, his wings were shaking too badly to tie-off the bandage, and Gesane knelt wordlessly to help him.

“Where is Guy anyway?” Mimo asked as Gesane rose.

“I’ve sworn not to say.”

“Helpful.”

Gesane shrugged.

“I want to go to the shops,” said Mimo. “I’m losing my mind in this tiny roost.”

“I don’t have time to take you,” said Gesane. “I have a patrol.”

“And this is exactly why I refuse to fledge,” bemoaned Mimo, taking up the gnarled walking stick he had been given at the stable.

“Well, don’t get yourself any more injured. Guy has enough worries.”

Gesane’s words came as a bitter cut to Mimo, knowing that Guy worried for him. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised to hear it; Guy seemed to worry for everyone. Goddess knew Guy had wasted enough of his tears on Gesane at any rate.

Mimo, followed the winding walk carefully down to the shops. The sun shone in the copper glow of late autumn, though Mimo could feel the cold fingers of winter in the breeze.

Perhaps it was his own desire to torment himself that led him into the Brazen Beak that afternoon, though he told himself that it was need of a new sling for his bow. Nekk was the only one in the shop, and as Mimo examined the carved leather on the display. When the shopkeeper spoke Mimo was not surprised to hear the antagonism that seemed to follow him through the village.

“That there’s a warrior’s sling,” said Nekk, leaning casually against the counter.

“What’s the difference?” asked Mimo dully.

“Don’t rightly know myself, more of Huck’s area.”

“It’s your shop,” Mimo pointed out. “You want to make a sale or not?”

“I heard a rumour they wanted you to fledge,” Nekk remarked casually.

“I’ve turned them down,” said Mimo stiffly.

“See, they were asking after Huck, and he said the same. Can’t really compel you to go out and fight if you don’t have it in you, can they?”

“Who says I don’t have it in me?”

“Well, you know...after that whole cowardice thing...”

“That was a long time ago,” Mimo muttered.

“The brand is forever though, isn’t it? You get an arrow in the vent and suddenly people who were kids while you fought for the village know all about it.”

“Perhaps it’s because you’re always bringing it up,” said Mimo lightly.

“So, not going to fledge. Don’t want to be like your father—that’s fair enough. He wasn’t all that well liked in the end either.”

“Ralazo was a good warrior,” said Mimo defensively. “Though he wasn’t my father as everyone well knows.”

“Wasn’t talking about Ralazo,” taunted Nekk with a malicious grin.

The world had grown strangely still at Nekk’s pronouncement. Mimo looked up at the smirking face, wondering if the answers he sought were finally within his wingspan.

“What do you know?” Mimo heard himself say, scarcely above a whisper.

“You want me to wrap up the sling?”

“ _What do you know!?_ ”

Mimo’s voice echoed crassly out through the open-air shops. As he stared at Nekk, his leg throbbed painfully with the beat of his heart.

“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to tell,” said Nekk, self-satisfied glint in his eye.

Mimo wanted to hit him, wanted to rage and beat him with his stick until Nekk finally confessed what he knew.

“I’ll buy from the fucking Hylians,” spat Mimo.

Mimo turned to leave with what little speed and dignity he could muster, his walking stick thudding on the boards as he made for Gesane’s roost. His limp tired him, and the pain in his leg only wore at his resolve. 

When Mimo arrived back, he pulled himself into Gesane’s hammock and let the stick clatter to the floor. That sucking ache in his chest finally erupted, and he hid his face in his wings as he wept.

For years, he had begged Khedli and Ralazo to reveal his parentage. Secretly, Mimo had always wished Ralazo would one day tell him that he really was his son, that Khedli hated him because Ralazo had had an affair, that he really was Guy and Frita’s brother. That small fantasy of a father who loved him but was not allowed to acknowledge him had carried him through the turbulence of his youth. He must have known it couldn’t be true, but that hope had somehow lived on, even after Ralazo’s death.

Guy didn’t come home that night. By the time Gesane returned from his patrol to check his bandages, Mimo had cried himself dry, and Gesane kindly said nothing about the state of him.

**Guy**

Guy had dismissed the novices after assigning them their rotation of flyovers. They were to begin accompanying him and Gesane in small groups after the new moon. As much as Laissa and Teba reiterated that this was a necessary part of their training that naturally followed their successful blooding, Guy couldn’t help but feel that his own cohort had been given a great deal more training before they ever set out in the field. His concerns were heard, and Teba insisted that he and Gesane were to start leading groups out anyway.

As he tidied the lodge, Guy heard the scrape of talons on the landing. He was rose, about to greet who he assumed to be Mazli, early for their flyover. 

“Mazli, I thought you’d want t—”

Guy froze. On the landing, the afternoon light golden and glinting off his rich green plumage, stood Hossa.

“I thought you’d be away much longer,” said Guy in surprise, his legs carrying him almost involuntarily across the lodge.

“It’s nice to see you too,” said Hossa, amusement in his eyes.

Guy stood before Hossa, unsure of what to do with himself. All the things he wished to say dried in his throat, choked off by the furious beating of his heart. Hossa had left him to think about what he wanted, and he had done that, but seeing him here and now, Guy’s mind was a swirl of nonsense. 

“Should we—”

“We don’t have to talk about—”

“Goddess, I just thought about you so much,” admitted Guy, taking Hossa’s wings and tilting his beak up to touch to Hossa’s.

“What should I take this to mean?” asked Hossa, his wings resting just above Guy’s hips and wrapping around his back.

“I thought we didn’t have to talk about it.”

“Well, perhaps at some point.”

Too long had he lived in the shadow of that long ago affair with Gesane. Guy was done hesitating.

“I want to try this,” insisted Guy. “And I don’t want to hide.”

“What, why would you hide?”

For a moment Guy stared at Hossa; he really didn’t know.

“Us,” said Guy. “You haven’t noticed that, relationships such as ours are...not exactly public.”

“Oh...I—”

“If it’s too much—”

“On the island we don’t concern ourselves with the love lives of others,” said Hossa. “Should you and I be worried?”

“Teba has lifted the restrictions on who we’re allowed to spend our lives with, though there are those who would rather he hadn’t. But I’m so very tired of sneaking around as though there’s something wrong with this.”

Of sneaking around as he had always done with Gesane, Guy tactfully left off.

Hossa moved his hands up to hold Guy’s face and Guy gripped his wings, staring into the softness of Hossa’s honey-brown eyes. He felt young again, giddy to be with someone for the first time in ages.

“We’ll take it slow,” vowed Hossa. “We don’t need to rush into anything.”

“I really want to rush,” Guy breathed, nudging his beak against Hossa’s and trailing it down his neck to gently nip at his shoulder.

“Not that I’d mind that,” Hossa said huskily.

“Mazli’s to meet me here for our flyover,” said Guy, tugging on the patterned sash to draw Hossa near. “But...if we’re quick about it...”

Hossa smiled, and enveloped Guy once more in those ridiculously beautiful wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote an explicit continuation of this scene which can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597611). If you follow this link, please do so with the understanding that this is _explicit_ and intended for an adult audience. If you follow this link _read the tags_ and make an informed decision about whether or not this is something suitable for you to read.
> 
> That being said, I do think that it’s very emotionally revealing and very sweet, but it is still in no way a necessary read to understand this fic.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading <3


	15. When it Rains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings (located at the end of the last chapter) have been updated.
> 
> Buckle up, folks <3

**Laissa**

The end of autumn came with heavy, wet snow that lasted a day before retreating and returning once more. Eventually, it would decided to stay. As Laissa and flew out to survey the ruins on the mainland south of the village with Gesane, she could see damp blades of grass poking out from the patchy snow below. 

Gesane was quiet—not unusual for him—though Laissa had a burning desire to know what he thought of Guy and Hossa. Laissa thought Hossa was quite a catch for Guy, handsome and clever as he was. She sometimes found Hossa in the Flight Range lodge awaiting Guy after patrol, and she was glad that Guy finally had some sweetness in his life. Perhaps Teba may not have allowed such frivolous behaviour—in fact, Teba had told her so—but after watching Guy’s destructive misery for nearly a year, Laissa was willing to ignore their trysts.

“Looks like they’ve stayed away,” said Laissa.

“Yes, well, we’ve salted the earth.”

“Salted the earth?” asked Laissa.

“It’s what Ariane calls it,” said Gesane, the barest hint of a smile at the corner of his beak. “When Hylians would war in times of old, they would salt the ground of their vanquished enemies so nothing would grow again. We’ve burned them out, prevented the monsters from growing back.”

“You know they don’t really come from the ground, though?” Laissa asked, a smile breaking through.

“I suspected that wasn’t the case,” said Gesane sardonically.

“Well, I suppose we ought to check the road back to the stable,” said Laissa.

“Hm,” Gesane agreed.

“So Guy is with Hossa now,” she attempted.

“He is.”

Gone was the banter of moments before, in its place a sudden tension. Surely Gesane couldn’t be jealous, as in love with Ariane as he was.

“I’m relieved to see he’s found happiness,” she pressed.

“Yes,” Gesane said tonelessly, and flew a little ahead.

Laissa had hoped to keep him talking, but she had to admit that she felt rather tired. Though, that was not exactly a revelation; caring for her son and leading the warriors though such an active hunting season had been no easy feat. Above the woods behind the stable, a familiar pain hit Laissa and she _knew_ that she and Mazli should have been more careful on their shared patrol.

“Gesane, I have to set down,” she called.

“Why?” he asked, glancing back as she descended.

Laissa landed and caught herself against the sticky trunk of a spruce tree, very nearly sick with pain. She heard the soft rustle of damp pine needles beneath Gesane’s talons as he landed, and she struggled to hold back the terrible heave that overtook her.

“Laissa, what’s happening?”

“I think I may lay an egg,” she managed.

“What, here? Now?” Gesane asked, panic in his eyes.

“I can already see you’re not going to be very helpful.”

“No, that’s—just, tell me what you want me to do.”

“We should try to get back,” she said, taking his wing. “But I can’t fly right now. Too dangerous.”

“I’ll get you home,” he solemnly promised, wrapping his wing around her back.

Gesane’s wing supporting her, Laissa stumbled through the woods. After a few steps a sharp pain forced her to stop, and she gripped the front of Gesane’s cuirass in desperation.

“I don’t think we’re going to make it home,” Laissa told him through her clenched beak.

“The stable then,” said Gesane covering the hand that grasped his armour.

“I can’t—” Laissa gasped, remaining on her feet only for Gesane’s wing around her.

Gesane glanced down between them, his face dark with dread.

“Laissa...”

“Oh no,” Laissa breathed, following Gesane’s gaze to the blood staining her thighs.

“That’s—that’s not...”

“No, that’s bad.”

“It’s alright,” Gesane assured her, though he himself was shaking.

He collected himself quickly and lifted Laissa in his wings with a grunt. She held tightly to his armour as he ran.

“Oh, Goddess, get Mazli,” she said, her voice quivering. “I need to say goodbye.”

“We’ll get Saki, you’ll be alright.”

“Gesane, you don’t know the first thing about this,” she told him, her head buried in his shoulder as she held onto him.

“I know you’re my fellow warrior,” Gesane avowed, panting at the quick pace he had set. “And I will fight for you.”

She was light-headed, bleeding on Gesane’s wing as he hastened to the stable. The tearing pain was enough to make her sick, but it was the fear that she would never again see her sister, her husband, or her son that made her weep.

“We’re nearly there,” Gesane said breathlessly.

“Tell them I love them,” she begged, watching the tops of trees pointing up at the grey sky, barely able to keep her eyes open.

She closed her eyes, but Gesane jostled her head with his shoulder to wake her. She blinked hard at the surprised whinnies of horses and the murmurs in Hylian accents. Somehow they had made it.

“Ponthos!” shouted Gesane. “Tell the guard to get Saki now!”

“Goddess, Gesane! What’s happening?” came Ariane’s voice.

“She’s laying. Someone go find Mazli! _Now!_ ”

“Here. Put her in my bed,” said Ariane.

“That’s it, keep your eyes open,” said Gesane as Laissa’s head touched the pillow.

“Are they coming?” Laissa whispered.

“They’re coming,” Gesane assured her, his shaking hand resting on her shoulder. “Don’t move.”

“Tell her not to push!” Ariane called.

Gesane cleared his throat and Laissa could tell this was a step beyond what he would repeat.

“It’s alright, I’m not,” panted Laissa, tears running from her eyes.

As he took her hand, she could see the blood that had coloured the pale feathers inside of his wing. She squeezed tight, and he rubbed her shoulder.

“Saki will be here soon, just relax,” Gesane murmured absently, his eyes darting to the stable entrance.

“Mazli’s at home,” Laissa whispered.

“He’ll be here too.”

Laissa clutched at her abdomen as she felt her body contract. Goddess, the egg wasn’t moving. Curled on her side, she could barely hear Gesane’s platitudes over the sound of her own weeping. Hylian hands tampered with the buckles on her leather armour, freeing her of her fauld. She was so dizzy and so very tired, her heavy head resting on Gesane’s wing.

“Laissa, keep your eyes open,” came Ariane’s sharp voice. “Saki’s here.”

When Laissa opened her eyes, all she could see was Gesane kneeling beside the bed. His serious face was marred with a concern she had never before seen in him as he squeezed her shoulder. She had always thought if she were to die so young, it would be as a warrior—she had never envisioned this woman’s death.

“Mazli will be here,” Gesane answered her unasked question.

Laissa gasped as she felt Saki pressing hard on her stomach. The pain overwhelmed her, and she couldn’t follow what the healer was saying as she watched Gesane close his eyes in a wince.

“Laissa, do you understand?” Saki pressed. “This needs to happen right now.”

“I can’t do this,” Laissa heard Gesane protest.

“ _Gesane_!” snapped Ariane

“Gesane, I need Ariane’s help,” said Saki. “You must.”

Laissa could barely protest as they moved her to the floor, her back against Gesane as he held her in a crouch, prepared to lay. Gesane's wings wrapped around hers, and she clenched his hands as she wept.

“Take a deep breath,” Saki told her from where she knelt between her legs. “The egg needs to come out so we can see to the bleeding.”

It hurt. Almost unbearably. As Saki and Ariane did what they could, Laissa collapsed against Gesane, wishing desperately for Mazli.

“Nearly over, nearly over,” Gesane whispered desperately, and Laissa thought it was as much for his benefit as hers. 

How funny that he should not be able to bear this when she had no choice but to. She would have laughed if not for the pain of Ariane freeing her of the egg, her eyes growing dark as a pained trill broke from her beak.

“We have it,” said Ariane, carefully resting the egg in the blanket Saki held out.

Laissa’s legs shook, and Gesane mercifully let her slide down to the bloodstained sheet beneath her. Beyond weary, Laissa rested back against Gesane, and Saki set to work on the bleeding.

“Oh Goddess, Laissa!” came Mazli’s voice at last.

She felt her husband’s wings around her, Gesane gratefully retreating as Mazli held her.

“Maz.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Mazli said.

As he enfolded her in his wings and stroked her hair, she could feel his tears running into her feathers.

“Our egg.”

“Gesane and Ariane have it,” he assured her. “Everything’s alright.”

“I love you,” she whispered. It was important that he knew that, she thought as her vision grew dim.

**Guy**

Winter would come early this year if this quarter moon had been any indication, Guy thought. The Hebra sky was overcast as usual, leaving no shadow of their passing on the ground below. It would have have been ideal conditions for a flyover if Tal and Kivari had not been so intent on arguing.

“Enough,” Keci snapped. For once, Guy was grateful for her abrasive presence. 

The day before, Guy and Mazli had gone to scout out the location for the flyover. Together, they had thinned out the monsters in the colony in hopes to make it easier on the novices. The recruits had trained for nearly a year to be ready for this. Guy had overseen their blooding with Gesane and Harth, and not one of them had faltered when it came time for their first kills. However, as Guy had pointed out to Laissa and Teba, first kills under controlled conditions could hardly compare to the real chaos of battle. Even the most experienced warriors could fall to one stray arrow, one rabid lizalfos, or one bad move.

“You lonely without Hossa?” Keci teased.

“He only left this morning, I haven’t had time to be lonely,” Guy responded.

A blatant lie; Guy had missed Hossa before they had even finished saying goodbye on Revali’s Landing. The first Rito colony wasn’t so far away—less than a day’s flight—but Hossa was to stay for half a moon’s turn to ensure that preparations were in place for the seabirds’ first winter in Hyrule. Guy hated that he was forced to stay behind with his duties as Hossa flew abroad, wishing the two of them might instead go together—though Guy wasn’t about to admit that was mostly on account of his worry for Hossa’s safety.

“Shut up you two,” Keci snapped at the novices as their voices grew too loud, echoing between the rock faces in Rospro Pass.

As Tal and Kivari bickered, Guy found the irritation that had so often manifested in shortness these past moons was no where to be found. Perhaps it was the mellowing new routines of his life: he spent his nights with Hossa, curled together in his hammock; he visited the construction on own roost and was soon be out of Gesane’s feathers; he even took Keth to the Flight Range whenever he had time to spare. Guy was content.

They had nearly reached the monster colony when Guy heard the feline howl that made his feathers stand on end.

“What was that?” screeched Kivari.

“Turn around, head back to the village now!” shouted Guy, searching the pass below for the source of the sound.

“What is it?” Keci prodded.

“Tal, Kivari!” Guy snapped. “Go to the village or I’ll have you plucked!”

The lynel appeared beneath the novices with a chilling roar. Guy drew his bow, blood pounding dizzyingly in his head. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take the beast on his own, but he had to let Keci and novices get away. Goddess, he hoped Hossa would understand.

The whole world seemed to slow down as Guy released the three nocked bomb arrows. They struck the ground around the beast, churning up snow and flame. A tree fell, burning into the pass. The beast readied its terrible bow, nocking five arrows nearly as long as spears. Guy heard nothing as Keci fell from the sky, pierced through by an arrow.

“Go!” Guy shouted at the novices, trying to get in closer.

He was too late. Keci’s body was already a mess of blood and feathers beneath the Lynel’s crusher.

Fearing he was about to be sick, Guy did the only thing reasonable to him and fled after his novices, dodging the spray of arrows from below. The reached the village ahead of him and he lost them as they landed.

Guy’s wings didn’t stop shaking as he landed gracelessly, stumbling on the boardwalk. His mind was foggy, suddenly unable to remember how he had come to be in front of Gesane’s roost. He stood in front of the empty roost for a moment, badly needing Gesane to try to explain...explain that he had left someone behind.

Reminded, Guy was overwhelmed. He fell to his knees and was sick on the boardwalk. Wings wrapped around his shoulders as he shook, unable to speak for the horror of it.

“Guy, what’s happened?” came Kass’s voice as Guy leaned into him.

Guy wiped at his beak, choking on bile. He gripped desperately at Kass trying to form words, but his mind seemed packed full of down and he couldn’t breath for his clumsy tongue. 

“Take a deep breath,” Kass insisted.

“Laissa...she needs to know,” Guy managed.

“You can’t see Laissa right now.”

“Teba then.”

“Alright, stand up,” said Kass, pulling Guy to his shaky feet.

“The novices,” said Guy, remembering there had been others. “Tal, Kivari.”

“They’re with Amali,” Kass assured him, his wing still around Guy as he staggered up the boardwalk.

“I need Hossa,” Guy gasped.

“He left to see to the colony this morning.”

Guy knew that; he had seen him off. Why did he not remember?

“Gesane?”

“I’ll get him,” Kass promised. “Once you see Teba.”

The horrible sickening feeling was still with him, and Guy feared he would wretch again before they made it to Teba’s roost. As stood in Teba’s roost, Guy shivered, a terrible sickening shake that seemed to come from his very guts and flow through in him uncontrollable waves. Kass kept a wing around him, and Guy clasped his wings together, trying control of himself.

Teba sat brooding, his egg wrapped in a blanket and held to his body for warmth. Guy thought the sight of him like this so strange and delicate that for a moment he nearly laughed. For a moment he nearly cried.

“Guy, what happened?” asked Teba, his eyes unusually wide as he stared at them.

“There’s...a lynel,” Guy managed to say, his throat raw. “In the pass. Headed south. Towards us.”

“A lynel?” Teba’s words were barely a breath.

“It...Keci...”

Guy covered his beak with both wings and he felt Kass hold him tighter.

“Keci?” Teba pressed.

“...killed her...” gagged Guy, his wings still shaking over his beak.

“Today of all days,” breathed Teba. “Kass, see what you can do for Guy.”

**Teba**

_A lynel._

Teba’s world had shrunk to nothing but that dreaded word from Guy’s quivering beak. Even now as he stood in Kaneli’s roost, seeking advice, Teba’s chest was tight and he could not clear his mind of that haunted look in Guy’s eyes.

“Teba,” said Kaneli sagely. “I beg you not to engage this beast.”

“I fear we haven’t a choice. It heads south down the pass into our lands.”

“You’re too young to remember—”

“I remember well enough!” Teba snapped.

Teba remembered how his mother and father had pressed him to the floor of the roost as those arrows sailed through the village from the mainland, how they scarred the great pillar and broke through floorboards and roofs. He remembered how his mother begged his father not to leave, how his father had combed his beak through Teba’s crest and held his face. He remembered how his father had looked when he returned, and Teba and his mother sat vigil over his still body.

“It may change course,” said Kaneli.

“There’s the stable to consider,” Teba pointed out.

“Have them evacuate! Teba, you don’t need to make your mark as your father did!”

“This is about the safety of our land, and I won’t have warriors dying in my stead,” said Teba stubbornly. “You are the only one among us who has fought one of these things!”

“Teba...”

“Kaneli, please!” Teba begged. “I am in need of your guidance! How do you defeat it?”

Kaneli sighed, his wild brows coming together in a look of terrible indecision.

“The eyes,” said Kaneli finally. “So long as it can see, it will pursue you. But don’t believe for one moment that once you have blinded the beast you will have the advantage. You must strike swiftly, for those creatures attack with the forces of nature.”

“I appreciate your guidance,” said Teba as he turned to leave.

“Teba,” called Kaneli, halting him where he stood. “Return to us.”

“I will,” Teba said, though the promise felt like one he wasn’t sure he could keep.

“Good hunting.”

Teba returned to his roost to prepare, a strangling sense of dread benumbing him to the questions from Kass and Amali, who sat with his egg.

“Teba,” said Kass finally, catching him by the shoulders as he wrapped his brood patch.

“Kass, inform Harth he’s to ready himself and meet me at the guard’s post.”

“You can’t think to do this,” protested Kass.

“If Kaneli hasn’t steered me from this course, what luck do you suppose you’ll have?”

“But why must it be you?” Kass pressed.

Teba glanced back to where Amali held his egg, her brow furrowed with the same worry as Kass’s.

“Laissa lies in a swoon, perhaps dying. No one else is suited to lead the warriors in such a fight.”

As Teba tightened the fastenings on his cuirass, Kass rubbed at his forehead in irritation. Teba had always thought the gesture foreign, but in this moment he found himself unexpectedly fond of Kass’s strange manner.

“I don’t mean to leave my responsibilities here to you,” Teba assured him as he fastened his bow-sling across his cuirass. “Go. Get Harth.”

Kass left the roost in solemn silence. Teba slung his bow and fastened his feathered edge to his weapon’s belt as Amali stared at him, egg wrapped in her lap, 

“Teba,” said Amali as he turned to leave.

“Amali.”

“I’m sorry.”

She was sincere, her wings wrapping around his egg in a promise to keep it safe—to be there if he couldn’t be. How unfortunate, Teba thought, that he could only ever heal these rifts when he was likely to not return. He cleared his throat.

“I know.”

Leaving Amali, Teba took the boardwalk down to Laissa’s roost. Inside, Laissa’s hammock was slung low against the railing and she lay beneath a patterned blanket. Mazli sat beside her, one arm slid beneath her shoulders, the other clasping her limp wing. Teba could hardly bear the sight as Mazli pressed his forehead to Laissa’s and whispered softly to her.

Bedoli sat with the egg on the other side of the roost, her face tight with worry over her sister. As Teba approached, Saki rose from the foot of Laissa’s hammock and stepped out onto the boardwalk with him.

“How is she?” asked Teba quietly.

“The bleeding’s stopped,” Saki told him quietly. “She’s weak, but I think she’ll pull through.”

“Good,” said Teba.

“I heard a rumour,” said Saki, her eyes deep with pain. “Are you setting out to fight a lynel?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Teba...”

“I’ve come to collect Mazli,” Teba explained shortly, his throat already too tight to talk about what this might mean for Saki.

“You can’t ask him to go like this.”

“He’s our best archer.”

“And you think he will remain so in this state?” Saki hissed.

Teba glanced inside to where Mazli wiped the tears from his eyes and drew his beak over his wife’s forehead.

“If Laissa could hold a bow I’d take her too,” said Teba. “This thing must be stopped.”

“Are you even going to say goodbye to Tulin?” pressed Saki, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“Of course I am.”

Saki blinked hard and wiped her eyes at the sound of talons on the boardwalk behind them.

“Teba, Kass told me—oh Goddess,” sighed Harth, glancing into Mazli and Laissa’s roost.

“Harth, go get the rest of the warriors, prepare them.”

“Wait,” Harth protested, taking Saki’s wing. “I want to—if I don’t—please...Molli.”

“You need never worry about you daughter,” promised Saki, reaching up to hold his face. “She will always be cared for.”

“Saki...” Harth whispered shakily, as she pressed her forehead to his.

“Harth. We don’t have time for this,” said Teba, though his heart ached to tear them apart.

“Right,” agreed Harth, swallowing hard.

As Harth retreated up the boardwalk to round up the rest of the warriors, Teba wondered if Harth thought of his own father, who had flown out with Teba’s to meet that terrible foe. Teba scolded himself for allowing his mind to slip into such idle thought.

“Get the children,” Teba told Saki, taking her face in his wings and brushing he beak to hers. “I’ll meet you at the guard’s post.”

Saki nodded and headed to the stacks to find Tulin and Molli. As he watched his wife disappear around the bend, Teba steeled himself with a deep breath, and entered Mazli and Laissa’s roost. Mazli did not lift his head as Teba stood solemnly before him.

“Mazli,” said Teba sombrely.

“I didn’t know it could be so bad,” said Mazli, his voice still thick with tears. “She’s strong though.”

“She is,” agreed Teba.

“She’ll wake up.”

“Mazli, stand up,” urged Teba.

“Wh-Why?”

“You need to prepare for battle.”

“Teba, my wife—”

“I know.”

As Mazli battled between duty and love, Teba thought for the first time that he saw Mazli as grown. Gone was the gossipy young warrior showing off at the range, and in his place was a husband and father, frightened for his family.

“Is this...the lynel?” Mazli asked, still not getting up.

“Yes.”

“Oh Goddess,” said Mazli, covering his eyes as he broke down once more.

Ignoring the terrible way his insides knotted and coiled to see Mazli in such a state, Teba knelt before him and rested a wing upon his shoulder.

“Mazli. Your wife nearly died bringing this egg into the world. You need to protect it. You need to protect Fyrza.”

Mazli gasped in a quivering breath and nodded.

“Please can I—just give me a moment,” said Mazli.

“Meet us at the guard’s post as soon as you’re ready,” Teba told him, rising.

Teba stared at Laissa for a moment, wishing that she were awake so could tell her how proud of her work he was. Praying he had told her so on their flyovers, Teba retreated to the guard’s post. 

There, Harth held Molli in his wings and brushed the end of his beak gently against her hair as he spoke to her. Her adult feathers were coming in dark red—just as Antilli’s had been—and tipped in blue like Harth’s, but she remained much smaller than her peers. 

The other warriors and their loved ones had begun to gather as well. Skovo’s mother fussed over him. Raza held Tal in his wings, her expression still hollow and lost as he rested his beak on her head. Ariane held Gesane’s face in her hands, her expression hard, refusing to let the Rito catch her weeping. Guy stood nearby, lost.

Teba watched as Saki pressed a leather pouch into Harth’s hands before she wrapped him in her wings. Bitterness rising in his chest, Teba wished they could have put aside the things that festered between them so that he too might embrace his friend once more. Goddess, how he longed to hold them both together, perhaps just this once to shirk his duties and beg that the three of them might take their children and flee.

“Teba.” Gesane’s voice pulled Teba from his reverie. “You can’t make Guy do this.”

“We need Guy. We’re too few as it is.”

“He’s been sick twice, not to mention what this has done to his mind. He doesn’t have the strength for this.”

“We don’t have the luxury of leaving anyone behind.”

“Mazli as well?” asked Gesane in disgust.

Teba nodded and Gesane breathed a rough sound of disbelief.

“Our fathers didn’t hesitate to confront the beast,” Teba reminded Gesane. “We must have the same courage.”

“Dad!” called Tulin, and Teba turned to catch him as he leapt into his wings.

Tulin was too tall for this, Teba thought as he combed his beak over his son’s crest. He was sure Tulin would soon feel too old to leap into his father’s wings, but right now Teba so desperately needed to hold his son close.

“Why do you have to go?” Tulin asked.

Teba’s eyes burned as he stared in the blue of his child’s eyes—Goddess, how he looked like Saki, his face haloed in her sweetness. How grateful Teba was that he didn’t inherit his anger.

“Do you know what it means to be a warrior?”

Tulin nodded.

“Remind me,” Teba whispered, the tears he blinked away taking his voice with them.

“A warrior gives oneself freely to the cause of protecting others,” Tulin recited. “They do it not for glory or honour, but for the love of those they hold dear.”

“Always remember that I hold you dear,” said Teba enfolding Tulin in his wings. “My beloved son.”

Teba released Tulin, fearing he would break down and weep as Saki took his face in her wings.

“Return to me,” she said.

Teba said nothing and brushed his beak to hers, and her hardened expression cracked. Riddled with guilt, Teba pulled her close.

“I love you,” he breathed, knowing he had said it not nearly often enough.

As he broke away from his wife, he saw Mazli had made his way to the stack, his expression grim. Teba surveyed the six warriors before him, praying that at the end of this he would bring them all back home.

“Set out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's okay to tell me I'm a monster...we're not through yet :)


	16. Those You Hold Most Dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings added.

_I vow to place my honour above my pride, to protect these lands and the people who reside within them, and to serve with my fellow warriors and never betray them. For the love of those I hold most dear, I offer my life._  
_\--Rito Warrior’s Oath_

**Teba**

The screech that echoed through the pass was one that Teba had only heard in those rare nightmares of childhood. They were halfway up Rospro Pass when the spray of arrows came from below, and Teba whistled a signal for the warriors to engage.

As Teba lost altitude, the warriors’ bomb arrows exploded around him. The lynel howled in feline rage and swung at Teba with its brutal crusher. Dodging the blow, Teba quickly nocked and released his arrows, only one catching in the beast’s shoulder. The lynel lashed out and Teba retreated, unable to identify the russet plumage of the warrior who swooped past to harass their foe.

“Hit him in the eye!” Gesane shouted.

But Guy could not land the shot, and was forced to retreat as well, and Gesane dived in to cover Guy’s escape. Round nocked, Harth followed Gesane, but was forced to dodge the fire-breath, his bomb arrow stirring up permafrost as it flew wide. Gesane’s pained screech told Teba that he was not so fortunate, though he had at least managed to land an arrow on that snarling maw.

As Gesane rolled through the hard-pack snow, feathers aflame, Mazli dived in, Raza providing cover. Recklessly close, Mazli nocked a single arrow.

“ _Die beast_!” Mazli yelled as he lived up to his reputation for fine archery.

Mazli’s arrow buried itself in the lynel’s eye, but the daring move had cost him. Yowling in pain, the lynel lashed out, clawed hand scraping Mazli from the sky. Mazli hit the ground hard and lay still, half buried in the blood-smattered snow. 

Paralyzed with fear, Raza hesitated too near the beast, and he was caught in its wrath, his body landing limply against an icy rock.

“Harth!” Teba called.

“Understood!” Harth responded; the rift between them could never undo so many years of battle together.

The two drew their bows and synchronously swooped in to pepper the lynel in bomb arrows. Taking advantage of Harth and Teba’s distraction, Guy made his attempt for the second eye but the lynel swatted him away with the crusher. Teba lost sight of Guy as he broke through the trees.

“Guy!” shouted Gesane, recovering in flight, the feathers on his thigh half-burned away.

“Gesane, focus!” Teba commanded, rallying the remaining warriors. “Skovo, wake up!”

“Teba, again!” Harth shouted.

Teba reached back into his quiver, but could not feel the distinctly sharp fletching of bomb arrows.

“I’m out!” 

“Cover me!” called Harth before he plunged into a dive once more, bomb arrows knocked

Teba followed close after, the metallic reek of the explosions nearly choking Teba as he nocked his arrows. He landed three in the lynel’s chest before he changed course. The beast paid his arrows no more mind than insect bites and drew its bow, gaze fixed upon Teba. With the lynel distracted, Gesane’s furious screech rent the air. He got in close, blade drawn, and blinded the creature with a daring face-strike.

The lynel flailed and howled, and the warriors scattered away from the flame-breath once more. Teba could count only three others remaining in the sky. He whistled for them to regroup.

“Who has bomb arrows?” Teba shouted.

“I’m out,” called Harth.

“Me too,” said Gesane.

“I have some,” Skovo said.

“Skovo, go! We’ll follow!” Teba ordered.

Skovo dived down to harry the beast, Teba in close pursuit. In a furious rage, the creature howled and issued forth a wild spurt of fire. Too close to that bleeding face, Teba was caught in the flame. 

Overwhelmed by the pain, Teba fell gracelessly into the snow, frantically smothering the flames on his wing. Hooves churned up the ground as the lynel bore down upon him.

“ _Teba_!” Harth shouted.

Teba looked up just in time to see Harth batted aside with the blunt crusher for his interference. He broke through the snow and lay still, dark plumage frighteningly stark in the white.

“Harth,” Teba rasped as he struggled to stand.

 _I’m all that remains,_ Teba thought in despair as he drew his feathered edge, his hand shaking uncontrollably.

“ _Teba! End it!_ ”

The maniacal shout pierced Teba’s hearing as Gesane leapt upon the creature’s back, talons tearing into its hide as he yanked the mane forcefully back. With the lynel’s throat exposed, Teba fought through the terrible throbbing in his skin and readied his blade. Driven in by the beast’s momentum, the feathered sunk into the lynel’s muscled neck, ripping the pommel from Teba’s grip.

Gesane was thrown from the creature’s back as it lurched and crumbled to its knees. Retreating from the flailing hooves, Teba lost sight of Gesane. Before him, the beast thrashed and kicked as it bled out, its terrible howling shaking Teba to his core. The blood that stained the snow pooled out from that fatal wound, and the lynel finally collapsed in the pass, steam still rising off its sweaty hide.

Unable to stand any longer, Teba fell to his knees. He he couldn’t see from his left eye. The world screeched hollow silence around him. His breath came quickly as he glanced down at his wing; the barbs of his feathers had turned to ash, the shafts burned to stumps in the blistered skin.

As the lynel twitched and finally lay still, Teba sat back in the snow. He wondered numbly if he had enough time to make it home or if he should just lie down in the snow with Harth and let their bodies be discovered together. Perhaps the Goddess could grant them the forgiveness that they hadn’t been able to grant each other.

Teba had survived where his father had not, but surely, as he was, he wouldn’t make it to nightfall. As the tearing hitch gathered in Teba’s chest, he thought only of his father—Tukoh’s white feathers had been burned black as well.

**Harth**

“Harth!”

At the sound of his name screeched in such panic, Harth drew in a sharp, burning breath. As he came up through the ringing in his head, the pale light of the overcast sky hit his eyes harshly.

“Harth! Goddess _fuck_ am I the only one standing!?”

“I’m here,” Harth gasped, shading his eyes.

“Skovo!” shouted Gesane, his voice raw with fear. “He’s gone! Get Harth up!”

Harth pushed himself up and gasped at the pain in his side. He glanced down, saw where the crusher had scuffed the leather of his cuirass and winced, willing to bet his ribs were broken beneath.

“I’m fine, Skovo,” Harth grimaced, dragging himself to his feet as the young warrior stumbled through the snow toward him.

“Harth, I need help!” Gesane called.

Harth forced his exhausted body through the snow to where Mazli lay curled on his side, Gesane’s shaking hands pressed just above Mazli’s hip where his cuirass ended. Gesane’s wings were slick with blood, and the red-splattered snow around them told the tale of Mazli’s short journey.

“He’s bleeding out,” Gesane whispered harshly.

“Here,” Harth said, fumbling with the leather pack on the back of his belt. “Saki sent this.”

Rifling through the pack, Harth pulled out a folded linen dressing and a stoppered phial of the burning powder that Saki used to close wounds. Wings shaking, he yanked out the cork with his beak and held it at the ready.

“Keep him still.”

Gesane moved his sticky wings away from the wound to hold Mazli down, and Harth moved quickly. As Harth poured the entirety of the phial over the wound, Mazli screeched, suddenly alert from the pain and flailing in protest. Gesane held Mazli still as best he could so Harth could cover the wound with the dressing.

“Shh, Maz, you’re alive,” Gesane told him as Harth moved Gesane’s wing to cover the dressing.

“Goddess, it _hurts_!”

“That’s how you know you’re alive.”

“Where’s Teba?” Harth asked.

Gesane jerked his head toward the hulking carcass of the lynel that lay still in the pass. Teba had sunk into the snow, his feathers fluffed in shock, his disoriented gaze transfixed on the beast.

Forgetting his own pain in the relief that Teba was still among them, Harth stumbled to his side. 

“Teba.”

As he grew closer, Harth gasped as he saw the injuries he had missed at first glance. When he screamed Teba’s name in battle, Harth had been certain he’d gone up in flame. For a moment—with Teba’s uninjured side toward him—Harth had forgotten it happened at all.

Hearing Harth’s approach, Teba turned to Harth, the severity of the burns on his face nearly stopping Harth dead in his tracks.

“Oh Teba,” Harth breathed, falling to his knees in the snow beside him and carefully taking his undamaged wing.

“I lived,” Teba rasped, and Harth realized he was weeping, though the tears flowed only from his right eye.

“Yeah. You did,” Harth agreed numbly, at a loss for what else the situation demanded.

To see Teba in such a state, Harth suddenly couldn’t imagine what stupidity had come between them. Harth wanted to hold him close and press his forehead to Teba’s, but feared causing him more pain.

“I may yet...die,” Teba gasped, glancing down at the burns on his body. 

Teba’s cuirass had protected much of his torso, but the state of his wing frightened Harth like the remains of a forest fire. Harth was grateful that Teba could not see how badly the fire had burned his face. His hand shaking, Teba desperately grasped Harth’s scarf. 

“Harth...my children.”

“You’re not going to die,” Harth assured him, desperately praying it to be the truth. “We’re going to go back to the others and treat your injuries. And then we’re going home.”

“The others...did they...live?” Teba asked haltingly as Harth pulled the uninjured wing over his shoulders.

“C’mon on, stand up,” Harth urged, sincerely unsure of the answer.

Harth’s ribs screamed in agony as he tried to pull Teba to his feet. As the adrenaline of the fight wore off, the pain radiated sharply from where the crusher had connected with Harth’s body, and Harth’s strength failed him.

“No,” Teba said numbly, still staring at the blood-matted carcass before him. “I need to...just for a moment.”

Harth let go of Teba’s wing and let it slide limply from his shoulders as he knelt down beside Teba once more. Concerned, Harth glanced up and down Teba’s body, but could see no sign of bleeding or more pressing injuries. As Teba shook, Harth rested a comforting wing on his shoulder.

“Am I to return as my father?” Teba gasped.

“No,” Harth told him, taking his hand once more. “You lived through your trial.”

Teba squeezed Harth’s hand in his as he broke down, his body shuddering as he wept.

“You lived,” Harth reminded him again. “And I’m not about to let anything take that from you now.”

Teba collapsed against Harth, shivering and weeping as he had never seen him before. Overwhelmed, Harth held him as carefully as he could, avoiding those terrible injuries.

“It’s alright, don’t rush,” Harth assured him quietly. “Just tell me when you’re ready to go.”

**Gesane**

“Harth!” Gesane called after his retreating figure, but Harth was focused only on Teba as he collapsed in the snow beside him.

Gesane had not seen Guy since the fight, and his chest constricted with dread every second he could not find him.

“Skovo!” Gesane shouted.

Skovo crouched by Raza’s broken form, but there was nothing left to be done for him. A ball of lead settled in Gesane’s stomach as his mind screamed that he might find Guy in similar shape—but he couldn’t leave Mazli on his own, not like this.

“Skovo, leave him, I need help!”

Finally, Skovo stumbled back though the snow, his eyes glazed as he stood nearby. Having lost what little patience he had with Harth’s retreat, Gesane grasped Skovo’s wing and yanked him down in the snow beside him. Barely able to speak through his fear, Gesane pressed Skovo’s wings over the stained dressing.

“Press on this. Don’t let him go to sleep,” Gesane told Skovo harshly.

“Gesane,” murmured Mazli.

“I have to find Guy,” Gesane said, standing.

“Wait,” Mazli begged, lifting his wing a little.

Wanting to rush out after Guy, but fearing for Mazli, Gesane crouched beside him and took his hand.

“Thank you...for what you did for Laissa...”

“Just keep your eyes open, Mazli, so help me Goddess!”

Gesane squeezed his wing and took off in the direction he had last seen Guy. The tall evergreens held a testament to Guy’s path, the broken, snowless branches guiding Gesane’s flight. Gesane set down between the trees where the white, untouched ground was sprinkled with spruce needles.

“Guy!” he called desperately, the snow leaden branches swallowing his voice as he staggered between the trees.

The burns on Gesane’s leg had begun to throb in the cold as he broke through the knee-deep snow, calling Guy’s name. Frustration tore at his throat as he swore to himself he would not cry—not when Guy could very well be alive. The rustle of branches behind him made Gesane turn, his pulse nearly suffocating him. 

Guy stood unsteadily between two trees. Blood matted the feathers down side of Guy’s face and neck, a dark wound on his head the clear source. Gesane’s chest contracted to see him fluffed in shock.

“Gesane...” Guy mumbled as though he wasn’t sure who he was looking at.

“Guy,” Gesane breathed.

Gesane closed the distance between them and opened his wings to Guy as he had not since days long past—perhaps ever. His wings catching desperately in the top of Gesane's cuirass, Guy collapsed against him and Gesane caught him. Feeling the tears of relief creeping upon him, Gesane pulled Guy close and held him tight.

“ _Ah_ , that hurts,” Guy gasped as he rested his forehead against Gesane’s.

Gesane pressed his forehead to Guy’s in return, the sticky feathers around his head wound catching in Gesane’s. Wrapping his wing around the back of Guy’s neck, Gesane reached up to hold of Guy’s face. 

“What hurts?” Gesane asked, gently stroking Guy’s cheek.

“I don’t know. Everything,” gasped Guy, his forehead still pressed to Gesane’s.

“It’s alright,” Gesane said softly, pulling back to examine the wound. To Gesane’s relief, Guy had managed to stop the bleeding on his own. “We’re going back to the others.”

“What others?” Guy asked, wincing as Gesane tilted his head slightly.

“Do you remember hitting your head?” 

“I remember...oh Goddess...” Guy’s eyes grew wide as he covered his beak with his shaking wings.

“C’mon,” Gesane urged as he wrapped his wing around Guy. “We need to go be with Mazli.”

“Is Mazli—” 

“I don’t know,” said Gesane, his voice high and shaking as he took one of Guy’s hands. He found he very much wanted to give in and weep.

Wings around Guy, Gesane urged him back to where Skovo still pressed the dressing over Mazli’s wound.

“Mazli, they’re back,” Skovo told him. “Don’t close your eyes.”

“They’re open,” Mazli disputed, barely above a whisper; an obvious lie even from where Skovo sat behind him.

Gesane helped Guy sit down near Mazli, but he was far from settled. Guy jerked forward, his body heaving as though would have been sick if he’d had anything left in him. With a thin moan, Guy covered his face and clutched at his side. As Guy winced and tried to steady his breathing, Gesane began to suspect he may have broken some ribs.

“Take a deep breath,” Gesane told Guy, wing on his shoulder.

“Teba and Harth haven’t moved,” said Skovo.

“Don’t worry about them,” Gesane told him. “You have to go back to the village for help.”

“Me?”

“Look around us,” said Gesane. “Harth’s not going to leave Teba. That just leaves us.”

“And you’re not going to leave Guy...” Skovo muttered.

“Are you injured?” Gesane snapped.

“No.”

“Then stand up, take off, and for Hylia’s sake go get Kass!” Gesane shouted, temper flaring.

“Alright,” Skovo whispered, glancing vacantly toward the deep brown plumage of Raza’s half-buried body.

“I won’t let anything happen to him either,” Gesane promised, ashamed of his outburst. 

“I’ll do my duty,” Skovo vowed through the tears in his eyes.

A s he moved to check Mazli’s bandage, Skovo lifted off, the flutter of his wings echoing between the rock-faces that rose up around them. Unable to meet anyone's eyes, Gesane lifted the edge of the soaked bandage to see if Mazli’s wound was clotting. Mazli winced and cracked open one eye.

“Did we loose Raza?” Mazli asked, barely above a whisper.

Gesane nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Am I to follow?”

“Bleeding hasn’t stopped,” answered Gesane shakily, his chest tight with frustration as he ran his sticky hand over his crest.

“Shit,” lamented Mazli, the corners of his beak wavering. “It’s such a bad time to go.”

Gesane could not bear Mazli’s attempt at humour.

“Guy, come hold this,” said Gesane, reaching for Guy’s wing to pull him closer.

Without looking up, Guy crouched in front of Mazli, pressing his wings on the sodden linen.

“Both of you stay awake,” warned Gesane as he went in search of wood.

Forcing himself to focus on the task was all he had as he tried to calm his mind by listing what he needed—he would fix Mazli and ensure he made it back to his family, then he would see to Guy’s injuries, recall Teba and Harth, then perhaps he would muster the strength to bring Raza’s body to safety... He gathered dry branches, his wings heavy, dysfunctional with the numbness that had beset his entire body. Except for his leg—that still hurt—he’d need to see to that too.

When Gesane returned, Guy sat disturbingly still with both wings pressed to Mazli’s side. Battling against the fog in his mind, Gesane set a fire and fanned it with his wing. As the embers built up, he added more wood and set the blade of his knife in the hottest part of the flame. 

Time seemed to slip by too quickly, the afternoon light failing as the blade heated up. With a quick glance back at Mazli, Gesane grasped the leather-bound handle, steeling himself.

“Hold him,” Gesane told Guy.

“Gesane, no,” Mazli protested, as Guy took his wings.

“Sorry, Mazli. You’re going to make it home,” Gesane promised as he cast aside the blood-darkened linen and plucked out the feathers that covered the wound.

Mazli grit his beak, the fear having returned as that hot blade drew near. Gesane sucked in a deep breath before he pressed the flat of the blade over the bleeding wound, clenching his beak against Mazli’s shrill cry. 

When Gesane pulled the blade back, he was half-afraid to examine his handiwork, but the bleeding had stopped. Loathsome task completed, Gesane dropped the blade near the fire and sat down for a moment to stop his wings from shaking.

“You...vent...” Mazli panted.

“You’ll live,” Gesane told him. “Guy, where are you injured?”

Guy just sat back, one wing over his beak, the other still clasping Mazli’s wing. He hadn’t said anything since they returned, and Gesane was at a loss. Dragging himself to his feet once more, Gesane rifled through Saki’s discarded pack for something to bind Guy’s head wound.

“Sit still,” Gesane told Guy as he wrapped the strip of linen around his head.

Lost in the task, Gesane stepped back suddenly and sucked in his breath as he felt Guy’s hand graze his burned thigh.

“You’re hurt too,” Guy said quietly.

“It’s not bad.”

“Gesane.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know how I got here,” Guy muttered numbly.

“What do you mean?” Gesane asked as he tied off the bandage

Carefully crouching before him, Gesane took Guy’s face in his hands to look at his eyes. Guy’s pupils had narrowed to dark points and blood still matted his feathers, his right eyelid sticky with it when he blinked. Gesane could not recall a time when he had seen him so disoriented.

“Did I not make it back to the village?” Guy asked.

“You did,” Gesane assured him.

“I don’t remember what happened.”

Guy covered his eyes, his breathing pained. Unable to bear Guy’s wretchedness, Gesane smoothed the feathers on his cheek.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gesane said through the catch in his throat. “Hold Mazli’s hand. Keep him awake.”

“Where are you going?” Guy asked as Gesane rose, taking Saki’s pack with him.

“Not far.”

The world was quickly growing dark, the overcast sky blotting out the celestial bodies that might serve to light up their night. The lynel’s carcass was growing cold in the pass as Gesane approached. Though the daylight had nearly failed, Gesane could not halt his sharp gasp at the sight of the burns of Teba’s face and wing.

As he held Teba, Harth gazed desperately up at Gesane, and Gesane had to grit his beak to keep himself from weeping. Gesane had never seen the fearless warrior so vulnerable as Teba shook in Harth’s wings; he had never seen either of them so vulnerable.

“I’ve sent for help,” Gesane told them.

“Did she send anything for pain?” Harth asked, eyeing the leather pack in Gesane’s hands.

“Goddess, you don’t mean to—”

“No,” Harth said quickly. “Only for the pain.”

“Here,” said Gesane, handing him the leather pouch and rising.

“Gesane?”

“We can’t leave Raza like that.”

Fearing he might loose Raza’s position when darkness fully engulfed them, Gesane set out in the direction of the fallen warrior. He was surprised to see there hadn’t even been any blood, but the snow around Raza was disturbed from Skovo’s desperate attempts to revive him. 

It had been long years since they had lost a warrior in the field, and Gesane found that the numbness that had accompanied each loss in his younger days had turned to something much sharper as he knelt by Raza’s cooling body and folded his wings. Gesane was struck by how young Raza looked in death.

“You did well,” Gesane told him, straightening his braids.

Bone-weary, Gesane fought the persistent pain in his leg as he crouched to gather Raza in his wings. Stumbling a bit as he rose, Gesane fixed his eyes on the fire and punched through the snow to return to the camp.

In the time it took for Gesane to return, Harth had managed to get Teba to the fire. As Gesane laid the body down on the edge of that circle of light the fire cast, Harth and Guy stared, neither of them emoting anything beyond benumbed shock. Heart heavy, Gesane tried to preserve Raza’s dignity and straightened his clothes and gently folded his wings into a dignified pose.

As he glanced up at his companions, Gesane realized he had gained command of this failing fleet. Harth still held Teba, and Gesane was glad for it, frightened as he was of those gruesome injuries. Mazli barely clung to consciousness as Guy kneaded at his hand. And Guy...Gesane didn’t know what could be done for him, the worst of his injuries inside his own mind.

“I sent Skovo for help,” Gesane told everyone from where he stood. “I told him to get Kass...we just need to...”

“We just need to keep ourselves alive until they get here,” Harth said, picking up where Gesane trailed off.

“Right,” nodded Gesane, and this time he very nearly did weep.

“Keep your weapons ready,” Harth told Gesane. “This pass has been teaming with moblins these past moons.”

“Of course,” agreed Gesane and he sat down with Guy and Mazli.

As the darkness dragged on Teba closed his eyes, his head resting on Harth’s shoulder, lulled to sleep by Saki’s potent brew. Guy stared at nothing; he had stopped responding to Gesane’s questions the moment Raza was laid by the fire. Mazli struggled to stay awake, and Gesane found it was he who worried him most.

Setting aside their old disputes, Gesane knelt in the snow with Mazli and carefully pulled him close to keep him warm.

“I can tell it’s bad,” Mazli whispered.

“How’s that?” asked Gesane, wrapping him in his wings.

“You don’t like me enough to do this.”

“That’s not true,” disputed Gesane.

“You’d barely do it for Guy.”

“I think I’ve invested enough in your family today. I held your wife, I held your egg...”

Gesane left the rest unsaid as Mazli huffed the tiniest of laughs and rested his head back against Gesane, his eyes heavy when he blinked.

“Strange,” breathed Mazli, “feels like a lifetime ago.”

“You aren’t who you used to be, Maz,” Gesane told him. “Fatherhood suits you.”

“ ‘s good’ve you t’ say,” Mazli slurred.

“That’s why you need to keep your eyes open,” Gesane told him, tapping his cheek. “You need to see Fyrza again. You did this for him.”

“Not sure...I can.”

“Mazli. _Mazli_!”

Mazli’s lifebeat was weak and erratic beneath Gesane’s hand, but it was _there_. Gesane looked up for help, but could find it nowhere. Guy’s eyes were distant and it seemed as though he heard and saw nothing around him. Harth stared across the fire, his expression grim.

Holding Mazli like this, Gesane was shit-scared. If Skovo failed they would all be doomed. 

“We’ll be fine, Maz,” Gesane whispered desperately, rocking him a little in his shaking wings. “We’re going home soon. Just open your eyes.”

Gesane didn’t even realize he was talking to Mazli, begging him to wake until the snow crunched before him and Gesane saw the familiar dark feathers.

“Mimo,” Gesane breathed, half-wondering if he too had fallen into unconsciousness.

“Goddess, Skovo said it was bad,” Mimo remarked as the others set down around him.

“Gesane, let me take him,” offered Verla as he knelt and reached out for Mazli.

“He’s alive. He’s still alive,” Gesane told Verla in a panic.

“I know he is,” said Verla, drawing a blanket around Mazli and gathering him in his wings.

“Mimo, get Raza,” Amali snapped.

Gesane watched in a daze as Saki held Teba’s face and Kass gathered him close in a blanket. Harth winced mightily as Amali put a wing around him to get him to his feet before she approached Gesane and Guy.

“Too few of you can fly,” said Amali. “Ariane is bringing a wagon to meet us at the bottom of the pass. We need to be going.”

Gesane nodded and between him and Amali, they managed to get Guy to his feet. Guy sucked in his breath and leaned into Gesane as Amali’s wing grazed his ribs.

“I can manage,” Gesane told her.

“Are you certain?” she said, eyeing his leg.

“It’s not that bad.”

Amali didn’t argue, just kicked out the fire and took the lead as they set out down the pass, her swallow bow in hand. Gesane held Guy under one wing as they followed, Verla stumbling through the snow with Mazli in his wings behind them. Kass carried Teba, Saki at his side and Harth’s eyes never leaving him. Mimo’s expression was hard and unreadable as he punched through the snow, Raza limp in his wings.

With nothing to occupy his mind, Gesane’s thoughts raced through the unbearable length of the day, and he found that he could barely recall a thing that had happened. His leg ached and he felt hollow and afraid. All he wanted was to see Ariane, for her to hold him and help him chase away the residue of this endless nightmare.

They were not so far from the end of the pass when Guy stumbled, nearly taking Gesane with him as he fell to his knees. Guy heaved and choked on bile once more and Gesane wondered if he was reliving his afternoon or if this was a consequence of the head injury.

“We’re nearly there,” Gesane encouraged, though he felt there was so little left inside of him that he might just fall to dust in the pass.

Guy shook his head, sobbing dryly. Gesane glanced up to where the others had stopped around them.

“Keep going, we’ll catch up,” Gesane told them.

The throbbing pain in Gesane’s leg put him on edge as he knelt in the snow in front of Guy. Not knowing what else to do, Gesane took his face in both hands, the blood in Guy’s feathers sticky beneath his wings.

“Guy,” he said gently, trying to summon that last little bit of patience. “We have to keep going.”

“I can’t,” Guy gasped.

“You have to.”

“This was...my fault.”

“No.”

“It was.”

“Stop,” Gesane said, cautiously touching his forehead to Guy’s bandaged head. “Get up.”

“I can’t.”

“If I leave you here, Hossa—” Gesane cleared his throat. “Hossa will never forgive me.”

“I _can’t_ ,” Guy insisted as he broke down completely.

“I know you’re injured,” Gesane said, his throat tight. “But you can’t give up here.”

Guy caught the front of Gesane’s cuirass as he wept and Gesane could do nothing but take the hand hooked in the leather, their heads still resting together.

“You need to get up,” Gesane whispered, holding Guy’s face. “ _I_ need you to get up.”

As Gesane stared determinedly into his eyes, Guy drew in a harsh breath.

“ _Please_ ,” Gesane begged voicelessly, his eyes burning.

Guy lifted his shaking wing to Gesane’s cheek, his primaries barely grazing him as Guy nodded. With a sharp breath, Gesane drew Guy’s wing across his shoulders and pulled him to his feet, Guy falling heavily against him as he stumbled.

“We’re going to make it out of this,” Gesane panted, as he urged Guy onward. “I promise we’ll make it out.”


	17. Fragility

**Guy**

It was difficult to keep his eyes open. The light from the hearth hurt so badly he didn’t want to. Gesane and Mimo wouldn’t let him rest, though they assured him they were safe. Everything was a blur of colour and noise, the world tilting and listing. He might have let himself lie on the floor planks, if not for Gesane’s wings around him where they sat.

“Careful,” Guy heard Gesane’s warning, his voice buzzing through him. “I think his ribs are broken.”

“Guy, stay awake,” said Mimo as he loosened Guy’s cuirass.

Guy tried to lift his head from Gesane’s shoulder, tried hard to do as Mimo asked. He couldn’t quite remember how they had reached the Hylian cabin. He couldn't remember why everything hurt so badly. All he remembered was a lynel in the pass and blood in the snow.

Guy sucked in his breath harshly, unable to rid his mind of that terrible image. At his gasp, Mimo withdrew, the strap of his cuirass hitting the rough wall behind them.

“Tell us what hurts,” Gesane insisted, his voice wavering.

“Everything,” Guy gasped.

It wasn’t a lie. His head pounded along with his heart, his side burned with each breath, and his body was tender however he moved. Mimo removed Guy’s leather armour as carefully as he could manage, though as he grazed his ribs Guy very nearly screeched.

“I’m sorry,” Mimo apologized, rising in retreat.

“I don’t remember how I got like this,” Guy confessed as Gesane pulled a musty blanket around him and wrapped a wing behind his back.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Gesane told him, taking Guy’s hand beneath the blanket.

“Are you shivering?” Guy asked.

“That’s you,” said Gesane softly, drawing the curve of his beak over the side of Guy’s face.

Guy hadn’t been worried until he felt that comforting touch. Even in those days when they had spent their time with no one else, Gesane had only ever done that in the direst of times.

“Am I dying?” Guy whispered.

“Saki says you’re alright,” Gesane assured him.

“Then why are you...doing that?”

Gesane lifted his head and said nothing, drawing his wings back as though he’d been caught in the midst of something.

Warming beneath the blanket, Guy’s senses were not so dull as they had been, the disorientation lifting enough that he could see what had befallen them. Mazli lay wrapped in a blanket near the hearth, his head in Verla’s lap. Harth held his wings up, pained look on his face as Amali helped him off with his cuirass. Teba lay on the wood framed bed, Kass holding his wing as Saki tended his injuries.

Overwhelmed by the desperation in the air, Guy suddenly understood why Gesane held him so close. Guy reached for Gesane’s wings once more beneath the blanket, pulling them around him and holding his hands tightly as he shivered. Gesane said nothing, but didn’t hesitate to hold him again, clinging to Guy nearly as desperately as Guy clung to him.

Mimo returned with a metal bowl of water and cloth. His face grim, Mimo crouched before Guy to clean away the blood that had dried around Guy’s eye. 

“You’re fortunate you didn’t need stitching,” Mimo told him as he soaked away the blood on Guy’s cheek.

Guy found he had no response and just held onto Gesane as Mimo worked. His face was sensitive from whatever had hit him, and he tried his best not to pull away. If Gesane’s unexpected tenderness had frightened him, Mimo’s sudden concern left him terrified.

“Mimo, we need to meet the wagon,” came Amali’s voice.

“Can I have moment?” Mimo snapped, his hand shaking around the cloth.

“A moment,” Amali conceded sharply.

Mimo lingered a little longer on the matted feathers before he dropped the cloth back into the bowl. The water had grown dark with Guy’s blood.

“I’m alright, Mimo,” Guy tried to assure him, though he could barely lift his aching head from Gesane’s shoulder.

“We’ll go home soon,” Mimo promised, but it sounded as though he was trying to convince himself as much as Guy.

“Mimo,” pressed Amali.

Mimo gaze darted back to Amali before it returned to Guy, his eyes filled with desperation.

“I know...brother,” Guy said softly.

Snow blew in as Amali hauled open the heavy door, and Mimo cast Guy a stricken look before he followed. As they left, Guy’s eyes landed upon the long shape carefully wrapped in a sheet near the door. It hurt to think back. He couldn’t seem to remember who they had lost.

“Who is that?” he whispered to Gesane.

“Raza.”

“He just married,” Guy recalled sadly.

Gesane said nothing as he trailed his fingers through the coverts on the back of Guy’s wing. That old gesture of affection felt hollow as he lay in Gesane’s wing now, certain that even that small habit would have undone him only a few days ago.

“Is there anything for the pain?” Guy asked, gripping Gesane’s hand to stop him tracing circles on his wing.

“Saki said you can’t have anything yet. You need to stay awake for a few more hours.”

“There’s nothing I want less.”

“She thinks if you sleep...you may never wake.”

Guy half-wondered if that would be so bad, the throbbing pain in his skull nearly making him wish he had died.

“Don’t think it,” Gesane told him softly. “Hossa wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Hossa would be fine,” said Guy, though he didn’t fully believe it.

“ _I_ wouldn’t know what to do.”

Hearing the desperate hitch in Gesane’s voice, Guy compelled himself to lift his throbbing head and face him. Gesane’s eyes were deep with fatigue, his expression as shattered as Guy had ever seen it. Guy had forgotten something, he knew he had as he stared at Gesane. Surrounded by snow and spruce, the taste of blood and sick lingering in Guy’s throat, Gesane had been the most welcome sight of his life. Had that truly happened?

His eyes locked on Gesane’s, Guy reached a shaky wing up through the blanket. As Guy’s primaries brushed Gesane’s cheek, he didn’t look away, a line of tears building in his eyes.

Startled by the scrape of the door, Guy guiltily withdrew his hand and Gesane scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his wing.

“We have the wagon,” Amali announced, Ponthos and Ariane following her into the cabin.

“Gesane,” breathed Ariane as she tracked snow across the room to him.

“I’m alright,” Gesane insisted as her fingers buried in those feathers where Guy’s had just been.

“Hylia, Guy...” she gasped as she saw his face.

“Let’s go home,” Gesane insisted, shifted his leg to stand.

“You’re hurt,” Guy realized, seeing the charred feathers and blistered skin.

“I know. You’ve told me,” said Gesane, as he knelt carefully before Guy, readjusting the blanket around his shoulders. “Can you get up?”

Guy took the hand that Ariane offered him and let her and Gesane haul him to his feet. The world pitched and Guy thought he would be sick, but the only result of his heave was a fiery pain in his ribs and a terrible sound escaping him.

“It’s alright,” Gesane assured him, and Guy swore he must have been dying, for he had never heard such patience in Gesane’s tone. “Let’s go home.”

Around them, the others filed out of the cabin and stepped into the blowing snow to board the wagon. It was the kind of covered wagon Hylian’s used to transport goods, Guy saw as Mimo and Ponthos lay Raza’s body gently inside. Guy shivered. He didn’t want to be in there with that shell of Raza.

As Gesane and Ariane helped him into the back, Guy caught Gesane’s hand, revulsion creeping through him.

“Stay with me,” Guy begged.

“Guy...”

“There’s room, Gesane,” said Ariane. “Just get in.”

Everyone else was already inside as Gesane settled against the sideboard behind Guy. Teba was barely lucid, as Harth held him, kneading at his uninjured wing. Guy thought he knew what lay beneath the loose bandages on Teba’s face, though he wasn’t quite certain how. Mazli lay wrapped in his coarse blanket, his head resting on the pillow someone had taken from the cabin. Guy wondered if his eyes would ever open again. Beside Mazli, Raza’s never would.

As the wagon began to roll, Guy fell back once more into Gesane’s wings. The persistent thought remained that he had caused this...that terrible dark stain in the snow...

His body felt as though it had plunged into the icy flow of Hebra Headspring as he finally worked out those memories of blood on the snow. They had provoked the lynel on his flyover, and he had been too distracted to notice they were in danger until it was too late. He had left Keci behind.

His stomach revolted again, the force of its emptiness setting his head pounding and his ribs throbbing. 

“Guy, it’s alright. You’re alright.”

As he fought the burning sob in his throat, Guy rested his head on Gesane’s knee. Gesane held him as he choked and wept, his comforting touch barely reaching him.

“This is my fault,” Guy sobbed.

“Shh, no. It’s no one’s fault,” Gesane whispered, pulling Guy close. 

But he had known Gesane was being a little too kind.

**Gesane**

Guy had not said a word since he had broken down and Gesane was at a loss. Not knowing what else to do, Gesane stroked Guy’s cheek and held his hand as he shivered against his breast. Somehow the silence was worse than the weeping.

“It’s not your fault,” Gesane murmured, as the wagon rolled through the woods.

“Why would he think that?” hissed Harth beside him, Teba still lying in a sedated slumber in Harth’s wings.

“I don’t know. He hit his head,” Gesane said, the tremor of fear still in his voice.

Mazli had been in and out for much of the journey—to Gesane’s unimaginable relief—and shifted uncomfortably as the wagon came to a halt. The sun rose weakly beneath the dark clouds, casting the world in an ugly glow. Seeing the sunrise from this side of sleep always left Gesane hollow, a cold reminder of the unending cycle of life and death. He sat for a moment, exhausted to his core, as he stared out at the cold, overcast morning. It would likely snow today.

“C’mon,” Ariane urged as she came to the back of wagon and took one of Guy’s limp wings.

With a nudge from Gesane, Guy slid out from the back of wagon, letting Ariane hold him upright as Gesane followed, weak and shaky as his feet touched the frost-licked grass. Gesane put a wing around Guy, cautious of his ribs, but he did not even flinch. Ariane took his other wing.

“I’ll help,” she offered softly, and Gesane had never been more grateful for her.

Staring up at the pillar, Gesane’s roost still seemed a day’s journey away. As they plodded across the bridge one of the novices assigned to guard duty retreated to get out of their path. The walk across the stacks was a fog of fatigue and that ever-present throbbing in his leg. Somehow in the wintry light of morning, they made it back to Gesane’s roost. It looked cold and comfortless in the grey.

“That’s it,” Ariane said as they encouraged Guy into his hammock. 

Guy sucked in his breath and Gesane put a wing behind him to help him lie back. The night had worn away at Guy and he stared through the rafters, his eyes glassy and distant. Gesane could only hold his limp hand in a shadow of comfort.

“I’ll go get his armour,” Ariane told Gesane as she set out back down the boardwalk.

Gesane stood in silence with Guy’s wing in his, unable to conjure words through the void of his exhausted mind.

“Can I sleep yet?” Guy finally asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Yeah,” said Gesane. “I’ll keep watch and wake you.”

Guy chest contracted as he covered his eyes, silent sobs shaking the hammock. As Gesane stroked Guy’s face, he felt nearly as helpless and lost, fearing he too might break down in the bitter ordinary of the morning after their blood-soaked night.

“Oh, Guy,” Gesane breathed. “It’s alright, just close your eyes.”

Guy curled on his side in despair. Not knowing what else to do, Gesane had very nearly decided to climb into the hammock with Guy and wrap himself around him—perhaps that way they might protect each other. 

“Gesane.”

Gesane nearly jumped from his feathers when he heard talons on the floorboards.

“Hossa,” Gesane exhaled. “How did you get here?”

“Kass sent two novices after me,” said Hossa as he joined Gesane by Guy’s hammock.

“Hossa,” Guy whispered.

“I’m right here,” Hossa told him softly, a gentle wing on his shoulder.

“You should know,” Gesane said numbly as he backed away. “His ribs may be broken. And he has a head injury...he’s not allowed to sleep for more than an hour at a time.”

“You should rest, Gesane,” sighed Hossa as he glanced back at him. “I’ll take care of him.”

Gesane took a few steps backward, nearly stumbling as he watched Hossa stroke Guy’s cheek. The night weighed upon him too, and Gesane found he could not unfix his stare from the two of them as Guy wept and Hossa lay down in his hammock and curled himself protectively around him—just as Gesane had so nearly done.

“Gesane.” He startled as Ariane took his wing. “Let me fix your leg.”

Gesane sat down on the low stool and let Ariane pluck away the burnt stubs of feathers. Benumbed by the sleepless night and horrors of the day before, he barely felt Ariane as she worked. Instead, he stared at Hossa, chest tight as he watch him rest a wing on Guy’s thigh and whisper comfort to him.

“Should I bandage it?” Ariane asked.

“Leave it to the air,” said Gesane as he stood.

“Gesane, where are you going? You need to lie down.”

“I can’t.”

“You haven’t slept for more than a day.”

“I know.”

“Gesane—”

“Just—let me...I’ll be back.” 

Gesane left the roost, Ariane staring after him. Something about how Hossa had taken his place had left him unsettled, and Gesane desperately wanted the kind of understanding that only another warrior could offer. He found himself at Mazli and Laissa’s roost and felt that hook behind his breastbone.

“Gesane, you can come in,” offered Verla.

Both Mazli and Laissa’s hammocks were strung along the railing. Laissa had fallen asleep with Fyrza on her breast and her wing hanging over the edge of he hammock—as though she had held Mazli’s hand as she drifted off. Opposite, Bedoli sat along the railing with Laissa and Mazli’s egg, glowering across the roost at Gesane as ever she did. Too exhausted to acknowledge her, Gesane crouched beside Mazli.

“Gesane,” he smiled.

“I’m...relieved to find you awake,” Gesane said.

“Have you slept yet?” Mazli asked, his words a little sluggish under the influence of pain reliever.

Gesane shook his head, tears inexplicably building in his eyes. Uninhibited from the tonic, Mazli reached up and clumsily wrapped his wing around the back of Gesane’s neck.

“You look terrible,” Mazli remarked.

At the idiotic observation, Gesane began to laugh. It was mirthless and silent and came from somewhere deep inside of him. He shook with that terrible quiet laughter until he broke, that hitch behind his breastbone tearing through him. Weary and wretched, the tears finally fell from Gesane’s eyes. 

As he sucked in a harsh breath, Mazli pulled him in to press their foreheads together. Gesane held Mazli’s face with both wings as he wept, utterly destroyed by the last terrible day.

“I know,” Mazli whispered, and Gesane could hear him weeping too.

**Teba**

Teba drew in a breath, and another. He could feel his lifebeat burning through his skin as he came up through those gossamer layers of sleep. It took him a long time before he realized that his eyes were open—or eye; his left one seemed to be covered with a bandage. He stared up at the rafters of his lamp-lit roost from his lowered hammock, the dark world pushing in just outside of that warm light. 

“Teba,” he heard a whisper, and felt a gentle hand on his crest.

 _Harth_.

“Don’t try to get up. You’ve had a lot of pain reliever.”

Harth sat on the floor beside him, his face drawn with exhaustion as he smoothed back Teba’s feathers. Then it all came back to him—the lynel, the fire in his feathers, and Harth...

“How...long?” Teba managed to rasp.

“You slept nearly three days,” Harth told him.

“Saki?”

“Resting,” said Harth, glancing up at her occupied hammock.

Teba swallowed hard, his throat dry and rough from sleep. The more the world seemed to resolve, the worse the pain grew. The pain reliever that had kept him in slumber must have been wearing off; the side of his face hurt so badly, especially his beak. Strangely enough, there were spots where his wing didn’t seem to hurt at all.

Trying his best to hold back his pained gasp, Teba turned his head to better face Harth. His eyes shone strangely in the lamplight, glazed with fatigue. Teba’s gaze landed on the wrapped bundle in Harth’s lap, his dark wing curled protectively around it. Goddess, how his egg must have been passed between bodies these past days, Teba thought regretfully as he reached a clumsy wing to lay across Harth’s.

“It’s still alright,” Harth assured him.

“I can’t protect it,” Teba whispered, fearing he would weep. “I can’t protect them.”

“You already have.”

Teba withdrew his wing to clutch at his blankets at the unspoken promise of Harth’s guardian wings around his unhatched child. The thought made his heart hurt, though he could not unravel the envy from the gratitude in his stricken state.

“Is there anything more I can take for this?”

“For what?”

“The pain,” Teba hissed.

By the way Harth’s hand returned to his crest, Teba could tell there wasn’t.

“Amali’s watching over the batch. A few more hours,” Harth said, a note of desperation in his voice.

“Harth, I need...how bad is it?”

“You’re going to get better,” Harth evaded. “And Kass is taking care of everything, and don’t worry about Tulin and Molli, they’re staying with Amali and Kass too, and I’m not going anywhere, I’ll stay every night if I must, your egg should hatch in a moon’s turn and I’ll help you both—”

“Harth,” Teba cut off the guilty rambling. “Tell me the truth.”

“Saki says...it will take a long time. It’s too early to say...”

“To say what?”

“You should rest,” Harth hesitated.

It was clear that Teba would have to wait for Saki to give him the answers he sought. Harth still stroked his crest, and Teba wondered which of them it was meant to calm.

“Harth...about...when I...had you punished...” attempted Teba, unable to say aloud what he had done.

“Teba, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s I who should apologize,” said Teba, reaching up to take Harth’s hand.

“Don’t. I would have hated if...and we didn’t...”

“I thought you’d died,” Teba admitted, though it left his chest tight to think that he was still unsure of who had survived their terrible ordeal.

“Nope,” said Harth, his voice choked with tears as he squeezed Teba’s hand.

Teba let go of Harth and shifted in his hammock, a sharp gasp breaking from his beak as the loose bandages caught on his blanket. He bit back the urge to cry out, the pain seemingly growing a little worse with each passing moment as the remnants of his last dose wore away. He hoped those warriors who had followed him into battle didn’t fare so poorly. He feared to ask if any had been lost. Harth probably wouldn’t tell him anyway—Harth would want to protect him, he knew.

“What have I done?” Teba whispered harshly, staring up at Saki’s hammock. “How can I take care of them?”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to them,” Harth assured him him gently, his hand moving to Teba’s cheek. “I’ll hold your egg as long as you and Saki need me to.” 

“I can’t ask that of you.”

“You need never ask,” Harth avowed. “And...I’m going to take care of you too.”

Harth’s sincerity brought a terrible hitch to Teba’s chest.

“I...don’t wish to be a burden,” Teba said, his voice wavering.

“You aren’t.”

Teba blinked hard, unbearably grateful that their bridges had been mended—that neither of them had died amidst their foolish dispute. He felt Harth brush away the tear that had escaped before he leaned in close, the curve of his beak resting against Teba’s uninjured cheek.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Harth whispered, his beak brushing gently over Teba’s feathers.

His chest tight, Teba couldn’t respond. He reached with his uninjured wing to grasp Harth’s face, overwhelmed to have him by his side once more. Harth covered Teba’s hand with his own.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you didn’t think you were getting bonus Gesane and Mazli making up XD
> 
> I don’t intend to just leave this here, but I do have a lot of other things that I want to write outside of _Rito Chronicles_ , so it will get a break before part 2. Also, if there’s something you feel that you missed, or a scene you really wished you could have seen, feel free to ask about it, I’ll probably write it for you (unless it spoils something later).
> 
> Lastly, I want to thank the lovely writers and artists who I’ve spent so much time chatting with in the last few months, especially [DeathByStorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByStorm) and [acacias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acacias) who have both endured _so much_ rambling about this series. I can’t adequately convey how appreciated you all are.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, kudos are appreciated and comments let me know you made it this far <3

**Author's Note:**

>  **Content Warnings:**  
>  \- adultery  
> \- marital breakdown  
> \- poor parenting  
> \- overcoming physical and psychological trauma (ongoing)  
> \- blood  
> \- gore  
> \- organ harvesting (sort of, I don’t really know what else to call it)  
> \- brief suicidal thoughts  
> \- sexual themes  
> \- allusions to sex  
> \- M rated sex scenes  
> \- themes of depression  
> \- grief  
> \- poor coping habits  
> \- egg-laying  
> \- bad trip on pain meds  
> \- character death  
> \- difficult “birth”  
> \- battlefield medicine  
> \- serious injuries, moderate description


End file.
